Saturday, November 21, 2009
2 Random Class Notes
The other day in class I was trying to get students to connect Beowulf the king's desire to fight the dragon in the third part ofBeowulf even though it was likely he wouldn't make it out alive to Tennyson's "Ulysses" and the sentiments expressed therein. Unfortunately, the only person in the room to be impressed or enthralled with the brilliant connection was me. I realized that I've become that person who has read something enough times to understand it on a deeper level and to connect with it personally. I asked, "Who remembers when we read "Ulysses" a while back? Remember that the poem was describing a king who was away for so long that when he came back he was feeling wanderlust to return to sea with his friends? Think of the final part of the poem: And though/ We are not now that strength which in old days/Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;/ One equal temper of heroic hearts, / Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will./ To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. It's similar to Beowulf. He's old now, but when he was younger, he traveled to help Hrothgar's people escape Grendel's terror. He knows--like Ulysses--that there's a good chance he won't make it back alive, but he still wants to try to help his people and won't just sit around and do nothing. They both realize that their fate--all of our fates--is to die, and they both know they aren't as strong as they used to be, but they aren't going to lay down and die. They refuse to yield."
They didn't get it. Most of them didn't even remember the poem and looked at me like I was nuts because I was reciting lines of a poem from memory to them. If they don't see the brilliance within literature, I say it's their loss.
* * * * * * *
I'm having students give a book talk on great books they've read. They, essentially, have to "sell" the book to their classmates. Occasionally, the books they talk about seem appealing to me (as was the case a couple of weeks ago when I asked the girl who read Ella Minnow Pea if I could borrow it and she happily handed it over). This occurred again a few days ago when a girl talked about something called The Basic Eight. When she was finished her book talk, the following conversation ensued:
Me: Are you donating that to our class library?
Her: Ah... no.
Me: Well, may I borrow it myself?
Her: Ah... um...
Me: Just me. I was thinking I'd like to read it.
Her: Um... um... did you mean now?
Me: Have you finished reading it?
Her: Yeah.
Me: Ok, so yes, I was thinking now because I thought I'd read it over break and give it back to you.
Her: Oh...uh, I guess at some point...
Me: Never mind. I'll just get my own copy.
Her: (rush of relief upon her face)
In all the years I've asked students for things, I've never had one react in that manner. What did she think would happen to it? Did she think I'd lose or damage it? She let me leaf through it for a second in an effort to show me the end-of-chapter questions she'd been telling me about, so I know it wasn't because she'd made notes in the book that she didn't want me to see. Frankly, it was bizarre.
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