Customer Reviews

Racing Odysseus: A College President Becomes a Freshman Again

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Interwoven themes of mid-life personal growth and recovery, contemporary college education commentary, and snippets of Ancient Greek literary wisdom, with a refreshing and upbeat message! This book has it all, from the serious to the humorous, as a tranformative tale of work, love, mind ,and body. It is uplifting and deftly done. The author describes a personal journey that adds new meaning to being a 'life-long learner'. And, he documents the life force of youth in current culture against a backdrop of literature that spans human history. It seems to me that he has captured the elan vital that exists across the generational divide. And, he shows us a perspective that tears down this divide, like the Fall of the Berlin Wall, to expose a very warm, human story that anyone, of any age, can relate to. It is a refreshing and uplifting read that leaves the reader a better person.
Having visited the St. John's College campus,in Annapolis, Maryland, several times, I can attest to the flawless accuracy of his descriptions of the college setting, activities, and staff.

Martin shares his life as a "Boomer Freshman", complete with rekindling of adolescent problems he had thought were long buried, with humor and candor, and meanwhile gives those of us who feel sheepish about not having actually read the Greek Classics painless synopses set against observations on the geopolitical dramas of today and the author's all-too-real concerns about his own mortality. Amazingly, he's combined all of this in a quick and satisfying read that makes you feel like you've done something to better yourself.

Don't tell my college alumni director, but I've long thought that had I a chance to do my college-admissions process over, I would pay a lot more attention to St. John's College in Annapolis, and might well end up going there. "Racing Odysseus" says a lot about why this interesting, almost unique, college is so distinctive and -- for a certain, probably pretty rare, type of student -- so attractive.

But St. John's, distinctive as it is, is but one element of author Roger Martin's post-cancer re-evaluation of his life, lifestyle, and goals (considering his doctor had told him he'd likely be dead several years before this book was written, it seems uncharitable to call this a "mid-life crisis"). It's also a meditation on the value of a liberal-arts education in an era of career-focused students and parents; an argument for the continuing relevance of dead-white-male classics like the ancient Greek writers Johnnies read in the first semester of freshman year; plus the story of a competitive ex-jock proving he's still able to compete (at some level) against callow youth, despite being about three times older than them and missing part of a lung. It's a lot to fit into one relatively slim book, but I found it an interesting and fast-paced read.

Perhaps Mr. Martin (as they'd call him at St. John's) might consider it disrespectful of his young friends and ersatz classmates, but I finished this book wishing he had written more about his general impressions of this generation of college students, their preparation for higher education, and their general approach to academic and professional success. I was thinking particularly here of Mark Bauerlein's The Dumbest Generation: How the Digital Age Stupefies Young Americans and Jeopardizes Our Future (Or, Don't Trust Anyone Under 30) and his argument that the marketplace of ideas no longer attracts America's young people. Certainly this is one more area where the largely self-selected St. John's student body is well outside the norm. Martin does talk about this to some degree -- particularly in his discussion of collegiate sports -- but I would have enjoyed reading his thoughts on this topic in greater depth.

Still, I can't complain too much about what Roger Martin did write. A book that could have been merely self-indulgent is in fact not only a worthwhile memoir, but also an interesting look at an unusual and important approach to education, and the value of such an education even to people well beyond their "college years."

This is a charming look at the opening freshman semester at St. John's College in Annapolis, Maryland. However, the student through whose eyes we see is no eighteen-year-old just out of high school. Instead, Roger H. Martin, the then sixty-one-year-old president of Randolph-Macon College and a cancer survivor, used a four-month sabbatical to return to school as a student. Martin was drawn to St. John's because of its Great Books curriculum in which all students read the same classical titles during a rigorous four-year-program and learn through discussing these books in small, group tutorials. Freshmen begin with the ancient Greeks: Homer, Aeschylus, and Sophocles...moving soon to Herodotus and Plato, among others. Martin noted, "Even though the books we read in seminar are ancient, it is amazing how relevant virtually all of them are to modern society."

One of Martin's gifts is being able to readily perceive and translate the relevance to the readers. Indeed, the title of this account, Racing Odysseus: A College President Becomes a Freshman Again blends Martin's academic observations (he read all the books required, but he was not an active participant in the discussions) with his chance to join the rowing team and prepare to race in a regatta as part of an eight-man boat. On one very rainy day when the team couldn't safely practice on water, some wag wrote lines from Sophocles' Antigone on the gym blackboard: " 'Many are the wonders, none so more wonderful than what is man / It is he who crosses the sea / With the south winds and the waves swelling / Breaking around him in roaring surf.' " St. John's distinguishes itself from other colleges and universities by encouraging all students to go out for any sport -- preferably one they have never tried before but have wanted to play. Martin's honest admissions of his own insecurities but unbowed perseverance as a novice rower compose a considerable part of his tale, honing the message that preparing young adults for life in college should engage both mind and body.

Martin did his best to become one of the freshman class, going to their Waltz Dance, "hanging out" at the coffee shops where the kids congregated, etc. He did forget to attend the choral practices mandatory for freshmen, so he didn't know the words when the entire student body broke out in a harmonied rendition of Palestrina's SICUT CERVUS However, try as he would, he still found himself counseling homesick young people and being asked to dinner by faculty members -- hardly the norm for a freshman unless he is also a college president.

If RACING ODYSSEUS has an Achilles heel, it is that the reader may pine for more intensive material about the seminar discussions of the classics. But generally, this memoir is a delightful human perspective on various elements of literature, education, sports, maturity, and staring down our own mortality. It is an accessible, endearing read. Plus, it may tempt you, as it did me (also years after graduating from another institution), to wish to be able to enroll at St. John's College. (4.5 stars)

The thing that grabbed me about "Racing Odysseus" was how Roger Martin so clearly describes how classic Greek texts - and his fellow students' discussions of them - address the current human condition, whether in the classroom, on campus, in athletics, in our interpersonal relations, or in the world at large. As Martin did, I went through a serious illness as an adult so his tale delighted me and spoke to me in a very personal way. But I wouldn't consider the appeal of "Racing Odysseus" to be limited to people who have gone through similar life-changing experiences. Any thoughtful person will love this book.

Roger Martin was a college president who survived a tough cancer battle and decided to launch out on a new course. He enrolled at St. John's College in Maryland, one of the oldest colleges in America, and one which has had a great books program since the 1930's. This book touches on one of my favorite issues: education. Martin knows what pressures administrators face in making choices today and how many of them press all schools to be pretty interchangeable. But he finds great value in the interdisciplinary approach that the great books seminars allow.

I really enjoyed his description of the college bookstore. For each book covered in seminar, there might be four or five different editions available. For "The Oresteia" by Aeschylus, for example, there were four translations:

A very personable-looking bookstore assistant approaches
me. "How can I help you?" she asks.
Knowing nothing about translations, I ask, "What translation do you recommend for Aeschylus's Oresteia?"
"Well, there are several" she responds, much like my wine store manager does when I am trying to select a good chardonnay. "The Hugh Lloyd-Jones translation is very lyrical, but sometimes he uses rather heavy and archaic language. Then there is Peter Meineck's version, which is the most recent. Of course, both the Lattimore and Fagels translations are very popular."
I am overwhelmed. "But which do you recommend?"
"Well, actually I like all of them," she responds.
"You have read all four translations?" I ask in disbelief.
"Yup," she responds, not blinking an eye. "Why don't you look through the translations yourself?," she replies, obviously not wanting to bias my choice.
[Racing Odysseus, pp. 92-93]

Martin explains how he felt satisfied with himself for buying the contemporary-sounding Fagles translation, only to be surprised to find out when he arrived at the seminar that the young students (He was 61, they were 18 or 19.) mostly chose the older Lloyd-Jones translation. In any case, this is a sampling about what is good about the book. Martin knows that in being as candid as he is, he may not always come off in the best light possible. But I think a reader must value the book more for this. When the author observes himself learning, he has to first show what he did not know, which entails vulnerability. I believe in rewarding that. The other thing that is shown in this passage is an appreciation for what is offered. I love that comparison of the bookstore assistant with the wine connoisseur. It both suggests a value to the books and a pride this worker takes in knowledge.

Martin also talks about his time on the rowing team. His experiences on the Severn River are often funny, though you feel for his every ache or frustration (or humiliation!). The college has an approach to athletics that he finds refreshing. Everyone is expected to participate. And this at a college where the typical student is a real bookworm. This made his own participation easier, for at a more competitive school, accommodating a 61-year-old would not be a priority, to say the least.

Those who wish to know more about St. John's College can either check out the school's website, or check YouTube for a video of a promotional film made long ago and narrated by Mark Van Doren (father of the cheater in the scandal shown in the movie Quiz Show).

Why would the 61 year old president of a liberal arts college in Virginia want to take a "sabbatical" in which he attempts to relive, sort of, the freshman experience at a small liberal arts college in Maryland? And why _that_ college (Saint John's in Annapolis)? And what happens to him during this (August to December 2004) semester? Finally, what is the significance of all this?

These were some of the questions I wondered about as I read a fascinating little book, RACING ODYSSEUS: A COLLEGE PRESIDENT BECOMES A FRESHMAN AGAIN. Author Roger Martin describes some of his experiences at a very unique institution of higher learning. St. John's College has no professors, no academic departments, no majors, and insofar as I can tell, no football team! And maybe no grades?

That last sentence is a reference to the fact that the author is selective rather than exhaustive here. What probably could easily have been a 400 or 500 page work comes in at only 260 pages. So then, what does he include and what does he leave out?

He emphasizes three areas: the freshman seminar; his crew (rowing) experiences; and his relationships with some of his "fellow" freshman students. What we learn little to nothing about is how students are evaluated or graded and whether or not they are required to write as well as to read and discuss. We also are not enlightened as to how and why he selected St. John's.

There is a lot in the book about the writings of Homer, Plato and Herodotus. Same is true for rowing, or what is called "crew", and "catching crab" (not good, I gathered). These are mentioned to let the potential reader beware.

The author's courageous struggle against cancer is discussed, but I also want to mention one little and, perhaps to some readers, trivial revelation that Roger Martin chooses to include: that during his _real_ freshman year at Denison in 1961 (same year as this reviewer's freshman year), he received a D- grade on his first writing assignment in a western civ course. This admission represents another type of courage and one I applaud.

A book, then, for anyone who was ever a college freshman or wanted to be one. And probably required reading for all St. John's grads.

Tim Koerner March 2009

Martin was the president of a small Virginia college when he was diagnosed with metastatic melanoma and given 6 months to live. Having beaten the odds and surviving to see his cancer in remission, he decided to take a sabbatical from his school and enter St. John's College in Annapolic MD as a freshman.

St. John's has a very unusual academic program which is based on having all of its students read "The Great Books". Essentially, all the disciplines of a liberal arts education are taught to students by having them read and discuss, in small groups, a Canon of roughly 100 books. Even science and math are taught in this way. Math is covered by having students read and discuss works such as Euclid's Geometry and Newton's Principia Mathematica. Science is taught by reading and discussing Lavoisier's Elements of Chemistry and Darwin's Origin of the Species.

The faculty's role is tutorial and collaborative rather than strictly instructive. They moderate the discussions rather than lecture. Interestingly, everyone on the faculty, teaches more or less every subject, with English PHD's leading discussions on Physics and vice-versa.

St. John's athletic program is also unique in that they don't select teams, even for intercollegiate competitions. Basically, everyone who goes out for a sport makes the team. And Students are strongly encouraged to take up sports that aren't familiar with.

Martin, obtained permission to "audit" the first semester of 2006 as a Freshman and decided to take up crew. The book is an enormously interesting description of Martin's experiences, his initial trouble fitting in with his classmates and his trials and tribulations as a totally inexperienced 61 year old cancer survivor going out for rowing. In fact, the title comes from the juxtaposition of Martin reading Homer's Odyssey for school while showing up every morning at 6:00 am for rowing practice.

The book was insightful, well written and extremely engaging. I read it in one sitting. One of the things I really enjoyed about the book was Martin's complete honesty and self-effacement. It is a rare memoir that doesn't attempt to gloss over the writer, or make him look better than he is. This is one of them.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book, in fact, I wish it were longer. The school is fascinating. Highly recommended!

Roger Martin, past president of Randolph-Macon College, used a sabbatical to be a freshman at Saint John's in Annapolis, Maryland. Saint John's is a "Great Books" college, where students read and discuss Western Civilization's treasures. These writings of dead white males are often demeaned in other American institutions. He makes profound observations, lightened up by amusing anecdotes, while being tolerant and compassionate of today's challenged youth.

St. John's was founded in 1696 as King William's School and was never a wealthy college. It has had its share of financial ups and downs over the years. It was a struggling liberal arts college in 1937, when Oxford alumni Stringfellow Barr and Scott Buchanan took over as President and Dean; and then introduced the Great Books program. As at Oxford, learning was to be accomplished largely through seminars, tutorials, and labs; with tutors, not professors, in charge. The tutors would be generalists, expected to teach across the curriculum, even in areas in which they had little or no academic training. As a consequence, there were to be no academic departments, or even majors. By graduation every St. John's student will have read the same hundred or so Great Books. The freshman seminar is Greek literature and philosophy such as Homer, Plato, Plutarch, and Herodotus. Sophomore year readings are Old and New Testament, Italian, French, and English authors such as Dante, Rabelais, and Chaucer. Junior year seminars focus on seventeenth and eighteenth-century literature, including classics like Milton's Paradise Lost, Moliere's Tartuffe, and Montesquieu's the Spirit of the Laws. Senior year takes on the modern classics like Tolstoy's War and Peace, Marx's Capital, and Dickens's David Copperfield. All students are required to take tutorials in language (initially Greek, Latin, German, and French), music, mathematics, and writing; plus labs in physics, chemistry, and biology. All are based on the Great Books. There are two lectures each week attended by the entire community. They are on a wider range of books than those found in the canon, and are given by a faculty member or a visiting scholar. St. John's curriculum is a radical (or traditional) expression of the liberal arts and sciences. Studying the books these great thinkers wrote long ago enables students today to think deeply about almost any topic they will encounter in their lives. St. John's also has a small Master of Arts program in the classics. The college appeals to evangelical Christians, perhaps because it is a nonsectarian college that requires students to read large portions of the Bible. Plato's Republic is so much a part of the curriculum that you are not considered a "Johnnie" until you have completed it. Plato's Guardians had to be educated and also physically agile, in order to serve as the city's protectors. So there is physical activity at St. John's like the Crew that Mr. Martin participated in; and tales of this run like a thread through the book. There are anecdotes and revelations about St. John's Waltz Parties, Collegiums, and more - but I don't want to take away your pleasure in discovering them for yourself.

Other colleges concentrate on vocational learning, to the detriment of much needed knowledge and how to think. Thus their graduates know how to do certain disciplines, but when they move up to positions where they deal mainly with people, or wrestle with ideas, they are ill prepared. Mr. Martin highlights this without being didactic. He says he always knew a liberal arts education is the best preparation for careers in our increasingly high-tech society, but he did not appreciate that a liberal arts education is with us forever, until he spent a freshman semester at St. John's.

I loved the true life story at this amazing college, but felt short changed that he only did it for one semester instead of the entire year--would have loved it for the whole four year experience but okay. Could be an inspirational movie if the racing scenes are reorganized and restructured. And more on his surviving cancer and then having the wherewithal to go back to school. A fast, easy read, you can read it on the pot or while sipping some fine single malt. Good for more mature audiences.