“The notion of crisis and that of criticism are very closely linked,” declared Paul de Man in December 1966, in a lecture at the University of Texas, “so much so that one could state that all true criticism occurs in the mode of crisis.” For criticism, de Man explained, throws the very “act of writing into question.” It compels language to “reflect . . . on its own origin.” As a native of Austin, I savor this picture: the bleeding-edge Belgian deconstructionist onstage, holding forth to a stumped crowd of bow-tied Southern literature professors in what was then a sleepy college town, cattle still grazing a few miles from the State Capitol. Meanwhile, American universities were fat with federal funding, rising enrollments, and cold war research largesse. Crisis? Where? Maybe de Man sensed his own incongruity. “Speaking of a crisis in criticism in the United States today, one is likely to appear,” he coyly noted, “out of tone.” But de Man pressed his case.…