Kant is hard to access. Understanding him requires a good bit of context, both historical and problematic, and mastery of a considerable amount of idiosyncratic terminology. Thus, although the classroom sessions during which, for the past thirty years, I’ve been introducing advanced philosophy students to Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason have always nominally been meetings of a seminar, it has inevitably turned out that I’ve done most of the talking. In the course of three decades, I have consequently accumulated a thick collection of what are basically lecture notes.
When I began seriously to consider formally retiring from teaching, it occurred to me that, once I did so, advanced philosophy students would subsequently have to be introduced to Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason by someone else. This was a sobering thought. I realized, of course, that even now most advanced philosophy students are introduced to Kant’s work by someone else, but the thought of a future in which this unfortunate state of affairs would become absolutely universal filled me with anticipatory regret.
Now, that’s the sort of opening that makes me actually read the book in its entirety.