Tuesday, June 10, 2008


On the syllabus for English my professor deems the course, "a botched survey, a shamelessly rapid skimming over the high points of English literature." Well this may be so, but I realized yesterday in class that I am going to miss sitting there watching the strange character at the head of the class sending my brain in eight million directions at once.

I wish everyone could spent an hour with him so they could pick up on a few of his peculiarities that, in their weirdness become oddly endearing. There is a slight bounce in his gait, a lightness almost impish in nature, and he is always carrying a book of poetry. He never wears his shoes in class and is constantly rubbing his rumpled, frumpy, black socks on the carpet, gradually inching them off his feet before performing acrobatics with his toes to inch them back on. Never are they neatly hugging his feet, rather they are always hanging half off like over-sized sweaters. A cumbersome wallet weighs heavy in his back pocket and is so large that when he leans up against the desk it sits separately at his side.

The man fidgets incessantly and always seems like there is so much ready to come out of him that he can't decide how to order it all so he can be efficient. Efficient is one thing he is not. He likes sounds and tactile experiences. He is constantly drumming the desk or his forehead, he slams the back of his wrists on the desk at will, and waves papers violently just to make the sound. He swears by hardcopy everything. After all, what if you have a sudden allergic spell (akin to the one I've been suffering since my arrival in the UK) and had to blow your nose? A paperback could save you. Tear out a page. Wahlah! Try blowing your nose into a pixel. I dare you.

And yet amidst all the quirks and frills of the man, I find him engaging and inspiring. He pushes my intellect. This cursory glance at literary highlights has provided me with a lot of depth and searching moments.

Some things have been almost cruel. Our brief encounter with Paradise Lost for example, was nothing but a teaser. Roommate read it last semester and gushed on and on about how much she loved it. I got the abbreviated version at best. It wasn't even biting off a bit and swirling it around in my mouth before spitting it out. It was like running up and licking it before dashing away the other direction. Not only is that rude but it also is unsatisfactory.

So I'm left wanting more (which is what most of my experience here has left me with). But that's not a bad thing.


Crosland's said...

Paige e poo, You're a great writer but I want to see your cute face! Put a picture on here somewhere.

Michelle said...

You didn't read all of paradise lost? We should read it together and discuss when you get home!

Jacob said...

I, too, am glad we can now be blog buddies.

By the way, this is kind of random but I went to your friend Jenny's blog and saw a picture of Kaleb. He was on my lacrosse team. Weird, it's a small world.

kylie said...

oh talbot... how i love thee.

ju no what i meen?

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