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First Day of School
Sep. 5th, 2007 07:28 pmI am old. Tired. Happy.
A Christie Mystery moment: The 7:19 is catchable if I rise at 6:55. It is not too crowded, and gets me to the university at 7:45, in plenty of time for the wanton indulgence of a fried egg sandwich and coffee.
It was a perfect day, clear, with oblique September sun, when I left the house. There was an early-morning fog on the hill, so arriving at the university was like sinking into an 18th-century painting, a bright mystery of gold, green, brown and blue, the sunbeams rotating through the trees as we lumbered past.
After this last voyage through the root canal, I still can't open my mouth wide enough to eat properly, so I had to sort of fold the egg sandwich into my mouth. I got my ID picture taken, though I won't be able to pick the card up until Friday. I did not buy books. The lineup was ridiculous, and in any case I couldn't locate our particular textbook.
Stepping into a room chock full of 20-year-olds gave me a tiny crisis of confidence; a miniature version of me was quietly backing out into the hallway, even as the superstructure scanned for a place to park itself -- but then a voice cried "Frac! Stick around after this class!"
It was Gay Men Read Books Exclamation Mark Prof. Suddenly I felt much more important than all those poreless children. I was Known.
The Shakespeare prof seems reasonable. His system for evaluating participation marks is a bit byzantine, but I gather the idea is you talk a lot. He gives the opportunity to gain marks via a short presentation on a Topic of Your Choice. At first this appalled me. Then I noticed we were studying Merchant of Venice.
"Hmm." I thought. "I wonder what approach he's taking. Someone really ought to counter the play with a talk about Jewish life in the Renaissance, or a brief survey of Jewish writers contemporary to Shakespeare... and The Tempest, look at that... an excuse to watch Prospero's Books again... I wonder what he's going to say about Caliban..."
So I expect I will do a presentation.
He seems to be launching out at a fairly high level of discussion, which pleases, though it reminds me that I will have to actually pay attention. His introductory lecture concerned the nature of knowledge, the purpose of literature, and the tension between individual desire and collective social ritual. His thesis for the course seems to be that because of the Reformation, theatre took over from religious ritual as the means of depicting experience, the difference being that "rather than funneling [individual desire] into a collective response, [drama] emphasizes the infinite nature of human desire."
There's also going to be something about resentment, which I expect is where he will try to address Caliban and Shylock.
After class, GMRB! prof did come back, and he brought my books -- he's had Regeneration, Two Strand River, and Mauve Desert for months, as I have had his copies of Kilbrack, American Studies, The Age of Cities, and For a Lost Soldier.
There are seven queer books in that sentence. Speaking of the infinite nature of human desire.
He also brought me a copy of Pat Barker's Another World. He said something about having gotten it on sale, and that I could keep it. I asked if he were still holding the book group and he said no, but if I wanted to talk about books on a semi-regular basis, I could come by his office during the week. I must say I brightened at that. It would be wonderful to have that to look forward to -- good book talk and maybe a sort of bit of mentoring on the whole subject of how to be the genre of person who gets into graduate schools -- more by osmosis than anything. I won't be able to make a nuisance of myself, since usually I'll have to go directly to work from class. It's only Fridays.
When I was last in school, belatedly finishing my bachelor's in the most expedient way possible, I used to love walking home after the bus from my Thursday night class, because Munro's Books was open just long enough for me to stop in and pay a sleepy visit to the sale table. I felt some regret that my current schedule doesn't allow for such a stop (nor my current housing location) -- but this is even better.
So: first day. Much administration still to be taken care of. Money to be paid. Books to be bought. Reading to put off.
I can't wait.
{rf}
A Christie Mystery moment: The 7:19 is catchable if I rise at 6:55. It is not too crowded, and gets me to the university at 7:45, in plenty of time for the wanton indulgence of a fried egg sandwich and coffee.
It was a perfect day, clear, with oblique September sun, when I left the house. There was an early-morning fog on the hill, so arriving at the university was like sinking into an 18th-century painting, a bright mystery of gold, green, brown and blue, the sunbeams rotating through the trees as we lumbered past.
After this last voyage through the root canal, I still can't open my mouth wide enough to eat properly, so I had to sort of fold the egg sandwich into my mouth. I got my ID picture taken, though I won't be able to pick the card up until Friday. I did not buy books. The lineup was ridiculous, and in any case I couldn't locate our particular textbook.
Stepping into a room chock full of 20-year-olds gave me a tiny crisis of confidence; a miniature version of me was quietly backing out into the hallway, even as the superstructure scanned for a place to park itself -- but then a voice cried "Frac! Stick around after this class!"
It was Gay Men Read Books Exclamation Mark Prof. Suddenly I felt much more important than all those poreless children. I was Known.
The Shakespeare prof seems reasonable. His system for evaluating participation marks is a bit byzantine, but I gather the idea is you talk a lot. He gives the opportunity to gain marks via a short presentation on a Topic of Your Choice. At first this appalled me. Then I noticed we were studying Merchant of Venice.
"Hmm." I thought. "I wonder what approach he's taking. Someone really ought to counter the play with a talk about Jewish life in the Renaissance, or a brief survey of Jewish writers contemporary to Shakespeare... and The Tempest, look at that... an excuse to watch Prospero's Books again... I wonder what he's going to say about Caliban..."
So I expect I will do a presentation.
He seems to be launching out at a fairly high level of discussion, which pleases, though it reminds me that I will have to actually pay attention. His introductory lecture concerned the nature of knowledge, the purpose of literature, and the tension between individual desire and collective social ritual. His thesis for the course seems to be that because of the Reformation, theatre took over from religious ritual as the means of depicting experience, the difference being that "rather than funneling [individual desire] into a collective response, [drama] emphasizes the infinite nature of human desire."
There's also going to be something about resentment, which I expect is where he will try to address Caliban and Shylock.
After class, GMRB! prof did come back, and he brought my books -- he's had Regeneration, Two Strand River, and Mauve Desert for months, as I have had his copies of Kilbrack, American Studies, The Age of Cities, and For a Lost Soldier.
There are seven queer books in that sentence. Speaking of the infinite nature of human desire.
He also brought me a copy of Pat Barker's Another World. He said something about having gotten it on sale, and that I could keep it. I asked if he were still holding the book group and he said no, but if I wanted to talk about books on a semi-regular basis, I could come by his office during the week. I must say I brightened at that. It would be wonderful to have that to look forward to -- good book talk and maybe a sort of bit of mentoring on the whole subject of how to be the genre of person who gets into graduate schools -- more by osmosis than anything. I won't be able to make a nuisance of myself, since usually I'll have to go directly to work from class. It's only Fridays.
When I was last in school, belatedly finishing my bachelor's in the most expedient way possible, I used to love walking home after the bus from my Thursday night class, because Munro's Books was open just long enough for me to stop in and pay a sleepy visit to the sale table. I felt some regret that my current schedule doesn't allow for such a stop (nor my current housing location) -- but this is even better.
So: first day. Much administration still to be taken care of. Money to be paid. Books to be bought. Reading to put off.
I can't wait.
{rf}
