Question: (from "Ella"): I'm a brand new assistant professor, and my very first course at Small Town U was taken by "Vera," a senior colleague's wife. She was friendly at first, but then began giving me daily advice and criticism of my teaching. Eventually she was interrupting me constantly in class and inciting other students to be hostile and to walk out (twice).

When I confronted her privately and asked her to cut it out, she told her husband ("Victor") that I was persecuting her (she was getting all A's). Vera also convinced Victor that my abilities had been seriously overrated and that I was barely qualified for the job. When our department head publicly praised my work, Victor made a point of correcting him. (I do actually have the strongest publication record in the department.)

Then things got awkward, unstable, and downright weird when Vera called me and asked me to spy on Victor. I refused, and now I don't even want to go to campus. What can I do?

Answer: Ms. Mentor finds herself shaking her head and flapping her ears, wondering if she's stumbled onto a revival of Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? -- a play infamous for the character of Martha, the Ferocious Faculty Wife.

Or maybe Ms. Mentor has been bullied into rereading a 1960's academic novel by the likes of Bernard Malamud, Philip Roth, John Updike, or Saul Bellow. In their eyes, the Ferocious Faculty Wife is a horny harridan, drunk most of the time, who revels in humiliating her husband and eviscerating their guests.

Vera, as you describe her, sounds very much like the Ferocious Faculty Wife -- but Ms. Mentor wonders if you might be pigeonholing her, instead of perceiving what she's really like. Vera may be a woman whose ambitions have been thwarted, and whose motives are murky. But suppose Vera wrote to Ms. Mentor, and gave her take on you?

Vera's possible version: Because Ella is a brilliant young woman, I decided to attend her class to learn the new theories in her discipline. Ella's lectures were not well organized -- she's new, after all -- and after class I tried to mentor her and offer advice, but she did not take it well. She also made some glaring factual errors that I probably should have corrected after class, but I didn't want the other students to have mistakes in their notes.

A couple of times, entranced by her subject matter, Ella let the class run way overtime. The other students were unwilling to be rude, to get up and leave, so I left first -- which, I suppose, made it look like a walkout. She took it that way and berated me. I told my husband, who -- against my wishes -- complained to the department head that Ella was spending too much time on research and not enough on preparing her classes.

Finally, in a desperate effort to mend fences with Ella, I called her and suggested that she watch out for Victor, and make sure he knows what she's done right. She hung up on me.

Whose version is right? Maybe Vera is a genuine ogre, trashing you without provocation. But she may perceive you as an ungrateful green viper, lashing out at her meant-to-be-friendly overtures.

In any case, you're the one who's wisely written to Ms. Mentor about what you can do.

You can, of course, tell the whole sordid story to your department head, with the risk that he'll call it a cat fight and use it against both of you. ("Women! They're always their own worst enemies!")

Ms. Mentor would rather you try something more challenging and spirited. Try to make Vera into your ally. As a faculty wife, she knows many a secret useful to you -- about department history, lore, feuds, peculiarities. You also have common ground, because she's interested in your subject matter.

Ms. Mentor suggests that you drop your fists, thank Vera for her advice, and appreciate her for any gossip she can provide. Invite her for coffee, and express regrets for past strains and wrong notes. Seize the chance to change the tone and tune of your interactions.

It's up to you to change the song. Don't let the malady linger on.

Question: I have a chance to teach human anatomy, dissecting cadavers, at a Caribbean school, but I also have interviews and tenure-track job possibilities in places like Arkansas, 100 miles from a big city. I don't have many publications, and I like sailing and snorkeling and looking for lizards in the undergrowth. Have I answered my own question?

Answer: Yes.

SAGE READERS: Spring fever in the South, the winter of our discontent in the North? Whatever the reason, this last month has set a new record for missives to Ms. Mentor.

Some questions Ms. Mentor has already handled with her perfect wisdom in the past, and she again urges readers to consult her archive and those of other learned worthies on this site. "Should I be a weenie or a snitch?" asks one reader, for instance, apparently unaware that Ms. Mentor wrote about just such quandaries in her columns called "When Should You Grab a Sword?" and "When to Tattle."

Similarly, in "Poking Around in Other People's Psyches," Ms. Mentor has promulgated sundry decrees on how to behave when you are a winner and your colleagues and friends are losers.

Ms. Mentor again declines to advise on strictly personal matters ("Should I marry Melvin or José?" "Should I move to Malta?" "Should I take my exams in January or June?") Her forte is the professional life of academics, and she cares not whether you are Mrs. Melvin in Malta.

As always, Ms. Mentor welcomes anecdotes, gossip, and fulminations. She also enjoys receiving leaked documents, such as a recent report on a fratricidal-languages department on the West Coast.

Ms. Mentor rarely answers individual queries, but most problems are eventually addressed in her column. She scrambles identifying details, and never reveals real names. Your secret passions, vices, doubts, and crowings are safe with her.