Humility...

15 February 2018:

One of my favorite excerpts of Ben Franklin’s Autobiography comes in his list of the thirteen qualities he listed as being important for moral perfection. After initially compiling a list of twelve, a friend suggests adding one more: humility. I love what Franklin doesn’t say here, leaving us to wonder if the friend’s advice was just a general idea that humility was important or if it was targeted to Franklin specifically. Franklin, after all, talks about his plan for moral perfection as it if is absolutely attainable. Not exactly a humble statement.

And then, in a deliciously rich bit of writing, he adds just four words after “Humility” in his list: “Imitate Jesus and Socrates.” Amazing. It is so perfect. Because, sure: if you want to be humble, imitate those two dudes. But to think you can imitate those two—that it’s that simple—and you can be humble? Well, isn’t that the opposite of humility?

This is a long way of getting around to what I am trying to write about for today’s post. Simply put, I got too big for my britches, wasn’t gracious, and said something I just shouldn’t have said—or more accurately, shouldn’t have said the way that I did. And I said it to someone I really care about. And I hate that quality when I let it out. I apologized (a lot), but I still feel bad. I know I’ll feel bad about it all night and probably when I wake up tomorrow morning, too. Sometimes I am reminded that I am not nearly as humble as I should be. These reminders are always painful but I am grateful when I can recognize how I can do better.

"Resignation"

14 February 2018:

This is a heck of a love poem, by Nikki Giovanni. Here's the opening:

"I love you
            because the Earth turns round the sun
            because the North wind blows north
                 sometimes
            because the Pope is Catholic
                 and most Rabbis Jewish
            because the winters flow into springs
                 and the air clears after a storm
            because only my love for you
                 despite the charms of gravity
                 keeps me from falling off this Earth
                 into another dimension
I love you
            because it is the natural order of things"

Beautiful.

Galentine's Day 2018

13 February 2018: Celebrated Galentine's Day with two of my favorite people: Kathleen and Amy.

(This will have to substitute for a picture of us since by the time we remembered to do it, someone was practically sprinting to the car to avoid having her picture taken...)

"The Revolt of 'Mother'"

12 February 2018: "Nobility of character manifests itself at loop-holes when it is not provided with large doors." --Mary Wilkins Freeman, "The Revolt of 'Mother'"

We discussed this story (and Freeman's "A New England Nun") today in my ENGL 360 class. I love both stories and the students responded to them quite well. At the end of class, a student held up her highlighted copy of the piece and said, "This was my favorite line." It is one that hadn't stood out to me before, but I really this bit of Freeman's wit.

"Longing to Belong"

11 February 2018:

"I'm falling harder than I've
Ever fell before
I'm falling fast while hoping
I'll land in your arms
'Cause all my time is spent here
Longing to belong
To you" --Eddie Vedder, "Longing to Belong"

Ukulele Songs has been on repeat on this rainy and quiet Sunday evening.

Celebrating...

10 February 2018:

[Catch-up post]

Two of my favorite women got the celebrating they deserved yesterday. It was my sister Tara's birthday and it sounds like she did it pretty right: relaxing, taking it easy, getting pampered. In her honor, here's a ridiculous picture of us (with Erin) from 1989. I have no idea what's going on with my face, but my sisters look amazing.

Second my good pal Hannah celebrated her big 30 (a bit early) with a lovely dinner at Tim's house. This picture isn't great, but it's the only one I have. She is adorable and I am lucky to know her.

"Map to the Stars"

9 February 2018:

"Map to the Stars" is one of my favorite poems that I've come across in the last five years or so. From the second I heard it (on a Poetry magazine podcast), I was floored by it and I knew I wanted to teach it in my ENGL 301 class, specifically as we talked about Marxist literary theory. It just works so well. (Incidentally, I met the poet at the National Book Festival and told him that. He signed my book, writing "Here's to all the underlying politics in everything we do.")

We talked about the poem today in my two sections of 301 and the students continue to respond so well--and so intelligently to it. This is no easy feat as it is a tough poem, if not to understand, at least to talk about. But they did it. They have smart things to say about what the poem does with space, motion, symbolism, and above all, that sense of moving through a space, both absorbed in it yet trying to transcend it.

"This sad and amazing journey..."

8 February 2018: This post's title comes from the words a young man I met today used to describe his life so far. He is a Dreamer (DACA) student who was separated from his parents at a very early age, a stand-out athlete, a strong student, and a community leader (who volunteers to feed the homeless and help battered women, among other activities). He is keenly interested in issues of social justice and diversity. And he's still in high school.

And he wants to come to Shepherd. How lucky are we?

Helpful reminder...

7 February 2018: Today was a weird day: the university probably should have closed all day or at least definitely for the morning. But it didn't. It did cancel all classes after 1:00, which only complicated matters more. (It's too long and boring to describe how/why.) On top of that, we are interviewing four candidates for our Provost position--all four coming this week. Since I am on the search committee, it's been...a lot.

Thus it was kind of wonderful to hear a helpful reminder from one of our candidates today talking about how lucky we are: "We get to learn something every day. Most people don't get to say that." Absolutely true.

Sense and Sensibility

6 February 2018: Another long day and here I am, still getting some work done past 11:00 p.m. For the past couple of hours, that work has involved finishing up re-reading Sense and Sensibility, the subject of my ENGL 311 class this week. To be honest, tonight's re-reading had been rough going. I am tired, a bit anxious about other work that needs to get done, and (as always these days) dismayed by the news. So it's been hard to put all of my focus on the adventures of Elinor and Marianne, which isn't very fair to Jane Austen.

All in all, I still think this is a kind of dark or at least very cynical novel for Austen, one that we ought to be careful not to over-romanticize. Yet even still, I did find myself charmed by this passage towards the end:

"...for though a very few hours spent in the hard labor of incessant talking will dispatch more subjects than can really be in common between any two rational creatures, yet with lovers it is different. Between them no subject is finished, no communication is even made, till it has been made at least twenty times over."

That the couple who lingers over the same conversation points is Elinor and Edward--who have been examples of sense and reason, not schmoopy (I am too tired to think of a better word) emotions--adds to the sweetness. Even these two nerds (I say with all affection) can get swept up in each other.

That's about the best I can do for something approaching profundity today, but now I can cross "blog" off my to-do list.

"Sort Of"

5 February 2018:

"Baby you've got the sort of laugh that waters me
And makes me grow tall and strong and proud and flattens me
I find you stunning, but you are running me down
My love's too big for you, my love..." --Ingrid Michaelson, "Sort Of"

Every word, every moment of this song is just...right.

"The Giver of Stars"

4 February 2018:

Stumbled on this Amy Lowell poem today. Lovely.

"The Giver of Stars" 
Hold your soul open for my welcoming.
Let the quiet of your spirit bathe me
With its clear and rippled coolness,
That, loose-limbed and weary, I find rest,
Outstretched upon your peace, as on a bed of ivory.

Let the flickering flame of your soul play all about me,
That into my limbs may come the keenness of fire,
The life and joy of tongues of flame,
And, going out from you, tightly strung and in tune,
I may rouse the blear-eyed world,
And pour into it the beauty which you have begotten.

Phantom Thread

3 February 2018: "Kiss me, my girl, before I'm sick." --Reynolds in Phantom Thread.

What a film this is! That line--which I almost hesitate to post (not that anyone reads this!)--is potentially a spoiler, but it made me laugh with a kind of wicked delight and I knew I adored it. And like everyone says, it's probably best to go into this one as blind as possible.

Tonight I was talking with Amy about ranking the ones we've seen (everything except Dunkirk and Darkest Hour). Right now I still think Get Out is my choice for the Best Picture Oscar, but boy did I love this film. The thing is, right now I think my second choice is three-way tie between Phantom Thread, Lady Bird, and Call Me By Your Name. I, Tonya and The Shape of Water fall right below those.

So much to love at the movies this past year.

"the most extraordinary thing..."

2 February 2018: “Because I’ve hardly ever felt comfortable anywhere. And when I have, it’s been with you. It has been the most extraordinary thing. I felt small. And in my proper place and not at risk of breaking anything precious.” –Chummy, to Peter, in the first season finale of Call the Midwife.

The always excellent Extra Hot Great reminded me of this episode, as Tara brought it forward to Canon consideration. Tara played the clip above and, as I listened to it this morning, I felt myself tearing up at Chummy’s vulnerability here, as she (temporarily) pushes Peter away to keep what has been so wonderful—their relationship, the comfort she feels with him—from being tainted. That feeling of comfort is just everything, isn’t it?

And her comment about feeling “small” with him (a reference to her height and general discomfort fitting into places) is such smart writing. The show’s creators will make it clear that they really aren’t as interested in the personal lives of their main characters as they are in telling the stories of their work in Poplar, but that makes these kinds of finely-rendered moments all the more important (they have to do a lot of work) and precious.

So starting the day thinking about the gift that is this show? Not bad!

[Another reason to check out this week’s EHG? It discusses a show I love almost as much: One Day at a Time. Oh—and a fun Game Time! And even more hilarious banter than usual…]

"Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard"

1 February 2018: (Three poetry posts in a row, but such is life...)

Discussed this poem today in my ENGL 311 class so it's been on my mind for a few days (leading up the discussion). The concerns of Gray's meditation on death and memory struck my class as timeless, as we talked about how, even as technological and cultural shifts affect what it means to mourn or remember someone, anxieties about being remembered or remembering in the "right" way linger, as do larger questions about forgotten lives or thwarted/frustrated/arrested greatness.

Before class, I advised students to read along to a good clip of someone reading the poem aloud. Many of them did just that. I myself used the clip below.



(We covered this one, too--always a favorite of mine.)