I'm spending the day with my current favorite man, a character named Lemuel Gulliver. He's married and hates any and all politicians, but compare him, if you will, with Robinson Crusoe, otherwise known as the Great Unwashed.
Gulliver has manners that allow one to take him out in public, even though you'll end the evening wishing you'd kept him to yourself. His hate for all forms of political thought has been known for hundreds of years, and he has no respect for anyone employed at any level of government. I guess he can get points for being straightforward, but Gulliver is undiplomatic to the point of foolhardiness. Fortunately, as a fictional character, he never actually had to convince anyone to hire him.
And I don't have to dress up for him.
Showing posts with label Robinson Crusoe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robinson Crusoe. Show all posts
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Into the Darkest Heart of the English Major
No, not my heart -- the central work of being an English major.
This semester marks the first time in all my academic careers that I haven't had to take a group of academic pre-requisites. No math, no foreign language, no religion, no physical education! Most bizarre of all, my academic advisor told me I had to pick out some electives. Of course I chose Chinese history and bio-ethics, since I have no real common sense. A reasonable person would have chosen introductory drawing or something that doesn't require writing long papers.
Anyway, that leaves me with three English classes. They are a lot of fun, and I'm learning a lot. If there's a problem, it's that I am reading so much that my poor brain is jumbling up Mary Queen of Scots with Robinson Crusoe and Jay Gatsby. I keep having snippets of dreams in which they meet each other and, oddly enough, don't get along. Gatsby the romantic fantasist and planner isn't at all impressed with Mary and her gambler's impulsiveness, and neither of them can stand to be around Crusoe. The think he really needs (1), a bath and (2), some manners. Evidently he's been spending way too much time with his goats. The result is three sulky characters, wandering Crusoe's island and being mean to each other.
And each of them thinks he or she owns the island. Mary claimed it for Scotland, Crusoe has claimed it for himself, and somehow Gatsby has sent his realtor a wire.
When I choose my classes for next semester, I think I'll choose one century and stick with it, instead of bouncing around from the Renaissance to the 18th century to the 20th. This semester, my mental landscape is just too confusing.
This semester marks the first time in all my academic careers that I haven't had to take a group of academic pre-requisites. No math, no foreign language, no religion, no physical education! Most bizarre of all, my academic advisor told me I had to pick out some electives. Of course I chose Chinese history and bio-ethics, since I have no real common sense. A reasonable person would have chosen introductory drawing or something that doesn't require writing long papers.
Anyway, that leaves me with three English classes. They are a lot of fun, and I'm learning a lot. If there's a problem, it's that I am reading so much that my poor brain is jumbling up Mary Queen of Scots with Robinson Crusoe and Jay Gatsby. I keep having snippets of dreams in which they meet each other and, oddly enough, don't get along. Gatsby the romantic fantasist and planner isn't at all impressed with Mary and her gambler's impulsiveness, and neither of them can stand to be around Crusoe. The think he really needs (1), a bath and (2), some manners. Evidently he's been spending way too much time with his goats. The result is three sulky characters, wandering Crusoe's island and being mean to each other.
And each of them thinks he or she owns the island. Mary claimed it for Scotland, Crusoe has claimed it for himself, and somehow Gatsby has sent his realtor a wire.
When I choose my classes for next semester, I think I'll choose one century and stick with it, instead of bouncing around from the Renaissance to the 18th century to the 20th. This semester, my mental landscape is just too confusing.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
To Distant Friends
Moving away from familiar surroundings is a traditional part of higher education. Young adults in particular look forward to this part of the ritual. It's a major rite of passage that usually occurs a couple of years after gaining a driver's license and a few years before marriage, the purchase of a first house, or both. Career choice fits in there somewhere, and so does the arrival of the first child, and eventually, the death of a parent. Time passes, and we pass along with it.
This all comes to mind because I miss my friends this evening. Everyone is far away and busy, and so am I. Still, as I get tired of reading, note-taking, writing, and synthesizing ideas, I crave conversation with familiar faces. Ironically, by this time of day I get too tired to drive up the freeway to Seattle, so I think I'll curl up with Robinson Crusoe, the assigned reading for this week: he's not especially charming, but he has a way with household management.
This all comes to mind because I miss my friends this evening. Everyone is far away and busy, and so am I. Still, as I get tired of reading, note-taking, writing, and synthesizing ideas, I crave conversation with familiar faces. Ironically, by this time of day I get too tired to drive up the freeway to Seattle, so I think I'll curl up with Robinson Crusoe, the assigned reading for this week: he's not especially charming, but he has a way with household management.
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