Is Oxford University the same revolting, snobby, class-stratified, philistine-infested place it was when I first matriculated there nearly a quarter of a century ago? Depressingly, the answer seems to be yes, going by the response to my article about returning to my alma mater, writes Stuart Jefferies.
Even people who graduated from Oxbridge more recently than me report experiences of alienation every bit as grisly as those I endured between 1981 and 1984.
One email (admittedly from a Cambridge graduate) went as far as to say: "You expressed many of my thoughts at the time: especially the hatred that made it impossible to make the most of it. I immersed myself in work and class-hatred when I could have been having the time of my life. Too young, too provincial, too scared."
I wonder how far such responses are representative. Surely there are some people out there who want to castigate me for being a truculent state school loser who really ought to get over his miserable time and/or shut up. It would be lovely to be abused by you if you have a moment.
Other Guardian colleagues had vastly different experiences when they returned to their old universities - Gary Younge, Emily Wilson and Linda Grant all have stories to tell.
What are your memories of university?
