Finding a PhD supervisor is exactly like finding a husband in a Jane Austen novel. There, I said it.
Seriously. Faculty member with a big grant = young man in possession of a large fortune. Postgraduate fellowship = dowry. Stupid administrative hurdles = the clueless but well-meaning relatives/other upstanding members of society whose disapproval messes everything up. Taking the GREs, ordering transcripts, etc. = going to balls, orchestrating time alone together, etc. The power dynamic is exactly the same.*
I used to have mixed feelings about Jane Austen—I understood why her work is important but found the whole “trying to snag a husband” theme a bit uninteresting—but now that I basically see myself as an Austen heroine, I think she deserves a lot more credit.
Also, just cuz: a topical poem.
*Thought I can’t think of an analogy for Lydia Bennet.