confessions of a post-grad English major

“Literature adds to reality, it does not simply describe it. It enriches the necessary competencies that daily life requires and provides; and in this respect, it irrigates the deserts that our lives have already become.” -C.S. Lewis

This quote is beautiful and often times, I find that it is incredibly true as I go about my day and think of Meg and Jo in the kitchen as I use brown sugar, or the little golden sister in the well as I fluff my pillow. At other times I am disillusioned as when I found myself thinking that a recent movie was an adaptation of a Shakespeare play . . . only to be told that the misleadingly-titled flick was actually based on a long forgotten 1980s novel. I also find these allusions unfortunate as when a friend tells me the name of their child, and I cannot help but hope they are not aware of Virginia Woolf’s  novel and androgynous hero (or was it a heroine . . .??) bearing the same name.  However, some nights my former life as an English grad student haunts my dreams– only last night, I was late in handing in a prodigiously extensive worksheet on Ulysses. This dream was unfair to the actual sheets and to my teacher, but completely accurate concerning my feelings as a fledgling Joyce student.

All of these musings aside, I found that after completing my degree, my former thirst for literature was assuaged for a while. In fact, last year I only read ten books! As my husband and I were considering what we had read last year, I was shocked at how little I chose to read. This event caused me to be analytical of my choices in the last year and allowed me to come up with the following observations (confessions) of life post-grad:

1. I find it difficult to read many books, because I have a need to put out as I take in. I really need to have a little notepad by me as a read so I can jot down thoughts and quotes that I want to think about, but who really does that unless they are preparing for a paper (probably all of the really smart people:). I decided this after finishing three books in January and feeling like I had overeaten. I definitely miss writing papers; however I probably will invest in a notebook and try to be smart instead of actually trying to write a literary critical essay on Divergent and Bringing up Bébé (don’t judge– everyone needs some snacks and something educational every now and then:).

2. I feel panicky when I consider all the books that are out there that I haven’t read . . . and want, NEED to read. I do have a short list for this year, but that respectable list of neglected 19th century authors (yawn) keeps me procrastinating in favor of all these child development books I feel the need to read before mini mack makes his advent. My developmental section is kept in the form of an ever-growing list on Amazon, while my goodreads list idles in the vaults of the web somewhere . . . occasionally they send an email and I feel guilt, because:

3. I need to be reading all these things in case I ever really do go back to school and write a dissertation on how the Imagists might have influenced the Georgians and how that in turn may have influenced the aesthetic of the WWI poets!! This is an unlikely event, but occasionally the ambition resurfaces and causes a flurry of research and a strong desire to name our son Owen (after Wilfred). Of course, there is a battle within me because the lucrative part of my English journey has been the education/ESL side and after a particularly exciting time with a student I will often think, no I want to finish my DELTA and then maybe pursue an Ed.D. . . . more unlikely events, yet this often causes yet another annoying habit:

4. I get distracted mid-conversation by poor grammar. And because of ESL, I need to correct it and figure out how to explain the correction in simple English. This really annoys Tommy sometimes:).

5. I am envious of my school friends who are still pulling all nighters to finish papers. I am also jealous when they get to take classes I particularly wanted to take. This envy inspires dozens of tabs being opened with plans for copious reading at a later date . . .

the proposal

Happy Proposal Day!!

Yet another absurd holiday, but I am a fan of this one:) I was going to write about my engagement story, but I will save that for another day and share some lovely gooey-favorite quotes instead in the spirit of the day! Here are five favorites:

Anne and Gilbert

“For a moment Anne’s heart fluttered queerly and for the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert’s gaze and a rosy flush stained the paleness of her face. It was as if a veil that had hung before her inner consciousness had been lifted, giving to her view a revelation of unsuspected feelings and realities. Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps. . . perhaps. . .love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath. ”
― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea

Emma and Mr. Knightley

“Dear Diary, Today I tried not to think about Mr. Knightly. I tried not to think about him when I discussed the menu with Cook… I tried not to think about him in the garden where I thrice plucked the petals off a daisy to acertain his feelings for Harriet. I don’t think we should keep daisies in the garden, they really are a drab little flower. And I tried not to think about him when I went to bed, but something had to be done.”
― Jane Austen, Emma

Clark Kent and Lois Lane

Clark Kent: All my life I’ve been afraid, Lois. Afraid of people knowing the truth about me. Afraid of them rejecting me, and even if they didn’t, still losing them. I’ve been afraid of everything I can’t control. But when I was faced with the idea of losing you forever, it made me realize there’s something I’d regret more than anything else, and that’s not telling you the truth about me. ‘Cause that’s the only way we could share a life together. I know the odds are stacked against us and we’d be risking everything, but if you’re ready to take that leap, there’s no one else that I’d want to take that leap with. Lois, you’ve had a lot of questions about The Blur, it’s me. I’m The Blur.
Lois Lane:  What took you so long?
Clark Kent: [confused, realizes she knows] What? You…

Tom and Meg

Joe Fox: Don’t cry, Shopgirl. Don’t cry.
Kathleen Kelly: I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly.

Matthew and Mary

Matt: Would you stay… if I asked you to?
Mary: Oh Matthew you don’t mean that.  You know yourself we carry more luggage than the porters at King’s Cross.  And what about the late Mr. Pamuk? Won’t he resurrect himself every time we argued?
Matt: No.
Mary: You mean you’ve forgiven me?
Matt: No.  I haven’t forgiven you.
Mary: Well then.
Matt: I haven’t forgiven you because I don’t believe you need my forgiveness.  You lived your life and I’ve lived mine and now it’s time we live them together.
Mary: We’ve been on the edge of this so many times Matthew.  Please don’t take me there again unless you’re sure.
Matt: I am sure.
Mary: And your vows to the memory of Lavinia?
Matt: I was wrong.  I don’t think she wants us to be sad.  She was someone who never caused a moment’s sorrow in her whole life.
Mary: I agree.
Matt: Then will you?
Mary: You must say it properly.  I won’t answer unless you… kneel down and everything.
Matt: [smiles and gets down on one knee.  He takes her hand]  Lady Mary Crawley, will you do the honour of becoming my wife?
Mary: Yes!

Which is exactly what I said:)

~Sarah

the storyteller

“Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.” 
― L.M. Montgomery, The Story Girl

Vienna, Austria. That lovely sweet city where the air is crisp and the sunlight seems more springlike in midsummer. I can only speak of midsummer, of course, because I have only been there at that time of year. Nevertheless, I have more amusing and cheerful memories of a single day in that gentle town than I can record here. Most of them involved a small Danish lady, whose name I can’t recall.

She was a short, jovial woman with pink cheeks and a cotton candy tuft of white hair. She lived in a tall, thin house that was crowded with trinkets on all three creaky floors. On the outside there was a blooming garden with unusually ferocious ants. When we arrived in the evening I am certain we had some kind of treat and tea, but it was then that she began telling us stories in her strongly-Danish German. It was impossible to catch the details, but somehow they were unimportant. She talked for hours and the gist of her stories was that she had many hardships in her long life, but the main point was that her God had been there for her through them all.

We got little sleep that night, and the morning came slowly– full of ridiculous and quirky adventures– some involving our golden friend herself! Yet the memory of her sweet testimony lingered in our hearts and will be there always.

Her example is one that I admire and cherish as I seek to start a home. She had few possessions, but because of her God she had much to share and she shared it willingly and joyfully. Even though the love of her life was long gone and buried, the Lover of her soul filled her with the joy of a bride.

~Sarah

the keepsake

“I’m not sentimental–I’m as romantic as you are. The idea, you know,
is that the sentimental person thinks things will last–the romantic
person has a desperate confidence that they won’t.” 
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise

I would call myself one of the least sentimental people I know. In fact, my fiancé recently counted on my lack of sentimentality and told me the exact day he was going to propose, but I was clueless to the significance of the day (maybe I will remember the date now . . .)!

When thinking of this phrase (“the keepsake”) I started thinking of all the keepsakes in books and movies. A few I thought of were:

The locket in A Little Princess:

 

The falsely-taken lock of hair in Sense and Sensibility: 

The watch in Castaway:

To name just a few.

I’ve also seen one lovely idea for those that enjoy travel:

Making your pressed pennies into a bracelet (I can’t help but think I might get a rash from that . . . ). Still, it’s sweet. I do not have many favored belongings outside of a few special scarves and of course, my engagement ring! But I do have a necklace that has evolved into a very special keepsake. It’s a little book:

It’s not the necklace itself that makes it special, although I do love all the things that this particular potter makes. I had gotten this necklace last year. I was wearing it one day and my friend impulsively took it and started to write on one of the pages. I will be honest, I was kind of annoyed at the time, but . . . after a while I was glad. I had other friends write in it last year as graduation approached. Now despite being scattered throughout the country, I have tiny handwritten keepsakes from these dear people.

It makes me think of this verse in Philippians 1:7 (ESV):

” . . . because I hold you in my heart, for you are all partakers with me of grace . . .”

How do you stay near to those friends that are far from you?

~Sarah

the epic: the ultimate story

“And on the pedestal these words appear:
‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!’
Nothing beside remains.
Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

― Percy Bysshe Shelley, Ozymandias

Look at me, quoting yet another Romantic poet . . . if nothing else, this exercise may show my true literary colors, thought I do despise the philosophical bent of the Romantics (it’s clear that I am disposed to them in my heart). Thinking and writing about the word “epic” was not a task I wanted to pursue.

I suffered through The Iliad and The Odyssey, Beowulf, The Faerie Queene, Ulysses, and (perhaps worst of all) Morte d’Arthur. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate literature (it was my major after all– though I think I could have learned all I needed to know about Arthur through some little Camelot movie . . . ); however, all of these tales are a little difficult for today’s reader.

I enjoyed light reading durning my two years of grad school– did I have time? No, but I needed a mental break! Still, looking back, my mental “breaks” consisted of:

Gone with the Wind (the double column monster of a book took me all of last Christmas break!),

the Twilight series(more to know what the kids I was working with were reading than for myself– enjoyed the story, did not enjoy that it felt like the author used a thesaurus and some of the moral tone, really appreciated the pro-life and abstinence message),

The Huger Games trilogy (which entranced me for the first two books, and left me feeling unsatisfied with the existential ending and not crazy about the lack of respect for life),

and my personal favorites: the Harry Potter series (poor Harry gets such a bad rap in Christian circles, but is really excellent in many of the messages, teachings, and the ultimate struggle of good and evil).

“I’m going to keep going until I succeed — or die. Don’t think I don’t know how this might end. I’ve known it for years.” 
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

As I was thinking about all of these “light reads” I was realizing that all of them fit the bill of “epic.” Also many movies lately fit the bill.

Mankind really is obsessed with this epic thing!

And he ought to be. I think it reveals the subconscious understanding of man that we are all on an epic journey of our own. Of course we are supporting characters in the ultimate story. The story of Jesus Christ.

His life, His death, His resurrection. His epic Grace.

Many of us get so wound up in the tedious everyday annoyances and setbacks, but really those small things are opportunities to reflect grace.

We get so hung up on the big issues of our day that we choose to protest and complain, instead of realizing that Christians need to look no further then themselves to see the answers to the problems.

What do I mean? Well, take all of the social issues in the US. Constitutionally the government has no business in any of them, but maybe they keep putting their nose into them because the American Christians aren’t doing their job in caring for the unlovely, the poor, the needy . . .

I certainly don’t think I have all the answers, and I would not want to be seen as a critic, but I did read an article recently that I thought was a wonderful reflection of Christ.  Even though the author certainly isn’t a Christian, the actions of the Christian he speaks about shines through as a beautiful testimony of Christ.

Deep thoughts for a Friday afternoon, but I will leave you with an encouraging thought from Tullian Tchividjian’s Jesus+Nothing=Everything (such a wonderful book that I am re-reading):

“So we celebrate because we know that whatever taste of sorrow and longing and incompleteness we experience now will soon be all forgotten. Jesus, out source of everything, comforts and cheers us with these words:’Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep no, for you shall laugh’ (Luke 6:21). His everything will finally and completely fill us– and so will his laughter!”

~Sarah