I AM AN ENGLISH MAJOR.
I realized yesterday how much I enjoy my chosen study path. I was wandering through the Mossey [eucalyptus candles?] Library on the trail of the White Whale, but found myself distracted by the aisles and aisles of literary criticism, author biographies, comparisons between Henry James and modern philosophy, etc. I wanted to stop and read them all.
I also had a difficult time picking out a copy of Moby Dick. Did I want the old hardbound version? The thick one with the larger print and nice cover? Or the Penguin Classic paperback version? I finally settled for the one easiest to lug around in my book bag [the one with the broken strap. i need to get domestic and fix that].
At the Circulation desk, I got involved in a passionate discussion about the merits of the book. Both parties involved attempted to impress the other by casually mentioning the number of times they have finished the great mouthful of Melville: "yeah, well, I read it over the summer, so this time through i can just review and enjoy it.' 'it gets kind of boring. reading it twice was enough.' I proceeded to explain that the random leaps from plot to background to scientific observation to description are precisely the things which keep the novel from becoming boring. Every time something could get annoying or slow, Melville changes course completely for several chapters.
I love being an English Major. I love being passionate and well-read. As an English buff, I don't ever have to be in a gray area. You either love Emily Dickinson or you hate her. You either think Emerson was amazing or crazy. You either devour Malamud to the extent that you can defend him to anyone or you eagerly spout a list of thirty-seven reasons why The Natural is not an Great American Novel [which it is, by the way]. I love walking through the library and wanting to devour everything in sight. I love explaining life and history and faith through literature. I love being captivated by Poe's intense look at humanity, crying over five pages of Hemingway, sitting breathless over Potok's depth and spiritual meaning, and laughing outloud when Bertie does it again...
I AM AN ENGLISH MAJOR.
I will always be.
and I love it.
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4 comments:
I despise Melville
Ah, Emily, it warms my heart to hear (well, read) you're so enjoying what you're doing. I've been feeling the same way about my chosen major (applied linguistics). I love explaining life and history and faith through language, walking down a street, or sitting in a cafe wondering and analyzing the potential origins of speakers and their speech patterns and accents. I love being a syntax nerd who laughs way too hard at the prospect of legitimately defying what we yet know of compliment-adjunct rules("Throw the cow over the fence some hay") or Binding theory, and the fantastic, utter humiliation that comes with learning languages! haha, Ahh! Praise the Lord for giving us such passions! No? :)
my word: plopocx, haha
Good All Hallow's Eve, to an English Major...
Bad Pun.
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