William Cook
Israel Evans Professor ofOratory and Belles LettresProfessor of English
THE EERIE SOUND of an Australian didgeridu penetrates Sanborn Library as English department chair Bill Cook enjoys a command performance. Ben Pratt '00 has brought the aboriginal instrument this afternoon to play for his favorite professor. In order to hear the concert, Cook had to duck out of one meeting early and is late for another. "Well, it was signed by a tribal elder. I had to see that," he explains, and hustles on.
The next day Professor Cook brings to life Robert Frost for the class of 2000 Family Weekend. It's no secret why Dartmouth asks him to speak to parents. Students and their parents wedge into every possible space to hear him lecture. The didgeridu player and his family are in the front row. "You think you know Robert Frost because you know a couple of sweet, folksy poems?" Cook reprimands the crowd while adjusting his trademark handlebar mustache. "If we know one poem, ten poems, we do not yet know the poet," Cook says, and saws the air theatrically. "Do not go to Frost's poetry to learn about his life. His poems tell you it's none of your damn business! The man is TERRIFYING." Cook is just inches from some parents who sit huddled at his feet. He's a little terrifying himself.
"Frost is not the wisecracking, gentleman farmer, kindly uncle upon whose knee we want to sit. He played that role. That role sold a lot of books. When the photographers came around he'd run for his image—he'd grab an axe, drag in a horse, and pose." Cook poses. As the audience laughs, Cook allows himself a satisfied smile.
Barely any time passes before we see Bill Cook again. He is exiting from a rural elementary school. He carries a couple of green pompoms and jiggles them.
We are THEYWe are THEYWe are THEY THEY THEYYEA THEY! Professor Cook cheers.
He is drilling the students in grammar, but of course, he's perked things up a little. "Sixth graders love to cheer. Boys too, oh sure. Sol have them each write a cheer for the assigned pronoun." Those kids know their pronouns now.
It's a very different kind of teaching from what he does at Dartmouth. "I love it. I never lecture to young kids. Even 15 minutes of me talking is a long time. I want to engage them, read to them, tell stories, perform." It is not just that Cook's extralarge personality makes him seem to be all places at once. He really is all those places. He is one of Dartmouth's most popular teachers, Sanborn's riposte to Rassias. He is a premier ambassador. He is in great demand.
Bill Cook's outstzed personality puts him in great demand.
