Comp Lit

It is time that you received a post. Comparative literature has been the cause of much of my pain this semester. It is not the fact that I was landed there, without compassion, in a group of six guys to discuss rather misogynistic literature. I could have dealt with that without too much trouble. No, what has caused me such immense trouble in this course is one thing (or i should say, one person) and one person only. That person's name is Branson.
I will say here, in an attempt to be charitable, that Branson is a grad student, not a professor. That is the last positive word I will say about the fellow, not because there aren't others, but because at this moment in time I need to air my grievances against him. Positive points may arise later on in time... but not now.
Allow me to explain. He leads the class as if it were going to be a discussion class. Very well. But he then feels the need to rephrase anything that anyone says. Not only does this make the flow of communication and ideas very awkward, he tends to rephrase things so that they're more convoluted than they were when the person said them in the first place. Moreover, sometimes he gets so carried away with rephrasing (usually if an idea goes through his head that relates to said rephrasing) that he just keeps talking. For minutes on end. Sometimes he'll extend into the half-hour mark, just rattling away, pausing every once in a while to make sure we're not all catatonic, and then forging ahead in a river of comparative literature jargon laced with modernistic pseudo-philosophy. This would be fine if the class were an advanced level of comparative literature, but it isn't. It's elementary, my dear Watson. I'm pretty sure that if he'd just shut his mouth for about 5-10 minutes at a time, the class might actually discuss something of interest. The class, mind, not Branson. He can hold an endless discussion with his own illustrious self. Never mind the fact that he gets so carried away with what he's saying that discussion rarely, if ever heads in any particular direction or clarifies anything.
My second problem with Branson, apart from his apparent oafery at mediating discussion, is that to my way of thinking, he has failed at teaching us anything. His purpose in teaching the class, as stated by himself (and shortened by me) was to get us to think about the relationship between literature and life. How does literature affect life? Why do people read literature? What does literature have to do with life? Well, so far, these questions have scarcely been discussed. They have been alluded to, yes, but we never actually got into them. His purpose, as defined by the title "teacher" or "professor" is to help his students to understand some aspect of the world (in this case, modernism and comparative literature) that they did not understand before taking his class. In literature, what I take this to mean is that he is there to explain to us the ideas behind modernism, to help us analyze its texts for ourselves, and so forth. He does try, I think, to accomplish this, but he does it by raising questions that he wants us to reflect about. Now, this would be alright by me, if he didn't raise so MANY and questions, or if they weren't the sort of question that doesn't even hint that at the end of the mental effort it takes to slog through it, there will be anything worth knowing. I can deal with a few such questions, but not as many as he raises constantly. The whole class becomes just... questions. Questions without answers that raise more questions, based on questions, following into questions... it quickly begins to feel like a maze of smoke and mirrors.
Now, I have considered the possibility that the concepts of the class might just be too hard for me to understand. I am not yet sure how likely this is, or whether I am just not willing to put in the effort anymore to trying to understand what the heck is going on.
Honestly, I love a good discussion. I love deep thought. I love wondering about things, and pondering things. Anyone who knows me can attest to that. In a discussion, I usually have at least a few good, pithy things to say or questions to ask. However, in this class, I've given up. There is no reason for me to speak up only to be ignored, made fun of, or have my words twisted beyond recognition. I will rack my brains and write a killer paper that will knock stupid ol' Branson's socks off and I will depart that class shaking its dust off my feet and happier than a fish finally back underwater.

Just to sum things up for anyone who got tired and skipped to the end:
I am BURNT OUT from this class and officially HATE CompLit 181 Reading, Living Modernism because in my opinion the professor is incompetent. The end.

Seeing Ghosts

This Image. The sign in this image is proof that the organization that has overshadowed 5/6ths of my life actually exists outside of my parents' conversations and random sites on the internet. I am amazed, shocked, to see its physical manifestation. Even, maybe, a little sad that it looks so... American. I always imagined that red white and black flag to be another flag of the country of Europe... sort of like the German flag, or the French one, but encompassing a part of them all. Like some part of each country belonged to it. Which is weird, really, 'cause knowing the people in the organization, the organization itself is clearly secondary to the actual life's work of living with the European people and loving them and representing Jesus in their lives.
I feel like it is a good time to speak something that has been on my mind for a while. My parents' lives are changing. Part of that change has been a progressive distancing from the mission field... meaning, if things continue as they are, I really don't see how we would be going back to Spain. It hurts me in ways I don't quite understand myself. When I think that I will be tethered to this vast continent of a country for all of the forseeable future, it's as if something wrenches apart in my insides and dies. Am I to be stuck in this aridity?
And another thing that I have been slowly, slowly working through in the past few months. How...- Was...- no. I can't even phrase it properly after 6, almost 7 months. My parents dedicated their lives- their LIVES, you understand, their lives and mine and my sister's- to ministering to people in Europe. We were there, we were set apart, we were foreigners in strange, yet wonderful lands, for a purpose. That purpose was to help other people understand the love of God. To help them think about their position in life, and realize the truth. My family was a cause. We were our own little island in a sea of fascinating, normal people, some of whom even I could see were in incredible pain. And we were there to show them the answer. (It's cheesy, I know, but I was a kid. That's what I understood)
And now I am realizing that what my parents did really wasn't all that much. I hear stories of men and women who changed the world. That, I think, is too much to expect of everyone, so I include my parents in everyone. But then I listen to the stories of other, more radical missionaries. The people who went and lived... and then the accomplishments of my family seem tiny. Like we didn't give God enough room to operate through us. Granted, I was a little kid for most of the time we spent there, so I might not have seen the fruit of my parents lives (to speak a little christianese). Still, I have to wonder... could we have done better? Were we -were my parents- only half-heartedly devoted to their call? Do I have to doubt my most beloved role-models? I do not know the answer. Just asking that question throws me into a hurt and a confusion that I'd rather not touch, it smarts so much. Pray, if you think about it, that God would- would what? Assure me that my parents' work was enough? Assure me that it wasn't enough, but he's ok with that 'cause they tried? Tell me that yes, they failed, but I, as their daughter and his, have a chance to make it right? Gah! All of those options are messed up. So, I don't know. Just... pray. Pray that in this messed up, confusing world, God would indeed prove to be a Rock.

I have rambled, my reader, long enough. That IS my prerogative as author of this blog, but still, I think it's suficiente now. Prou. Genug. Sufficient.
Good night, from GEMk
E.O.

Paper-writing Thought

I have just one thing to say to the world:

Manner bars are AWESOME!! Especially the lemon ones. =) I remember when they came out with the lemon ones. Yum.

...seems like I march to the beat of my own drum. :(

E.O.

Poor Thumbelina

This week I have watched eleven movies. It is true that not all of them were strictly speaking about love, but most of them contained it in some shape or form. In Thumbelina, for instance, there are at least five types of love: the love of a mother for her child, romantic love between two equals, unrequited love, the love of friendship, and shallow, fickle "love" that depends on beauty. These loves are shown to different extents, but each one dictates how certain characters behave. The two romantic loves, for instance, both set out in search of Thumbelina, however they have different intentions in their searches. The fairy prince Cornelius' object is to save Thumbelina from whatever trouble she may be in, whereas the frog's intent is to find Thumbelina so that she can marry him and make him happy. Thus, Cornelius braves terrible winds in autumn and howling snow storms in winter, only to eventually be frozen in pond-water and found by the beetle; and the frog gets his mother to kidnap Thumbelina from her windowsill and make her part of the Frog Family Singers, and when she runs away goes searching for her, coercing and torturing various other insects on the way.

The two suitors' actions towards Thumbelina are also drastically different. While Cornelius sings to her and takes her for a magical ride, promising to "lift her high above the stars" and "never let her fall," the frog does no even tell Thumbelina that he loves her, but simply asks his mother to kidnap her and force her to be a star, hoping that Thumbelina will just go along with it if he plops the whole plan irrefutably in front of her. While these methods do not necessarily indicate the pure-heartedness of the suitor, but rather his adeptness in social matters, Cornelius' way does show a certain respect for his damsel that the frog does not. Cornelius' treatment of Thumbelina proves that he knows her to be a person, with feelings and opinions; the frog's treatment of Thumbelina indicates that he views her more as a posession than as a life-partner. As I said, it is not impossible that the frog truly does love Thumbelina, and would make a passable husband, taking good care of her and obeying her every whim. However, given his brutish treatment of the beetle, it is likely that he would be a rather jealous husband as well.
...
ok. I think essay writing mode has been re-established... forward march!

A Day in SB life

A day in the spring-break life.
Today's epic adventure included waking up at 9:30, watching TV until we were hungry, not changing out of our pajamas until 1:30, going to a beautiful little hidden place in the woods, and talking to a dear friend far away. Then there was a whole other section of the day entirely dedicated to finding the movies we wanted to watch. On the list were:
Mirrormask
Juno
Dreamgirls
Howl's Moving Castle
Australia
The Dark Knight
How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days
Cold Comfort Farm
Seven Pounds
...
and a lot more that I can't remember at the moment. Of course, we didn't immediately rent all of these movies... just most of them. :)
We have watched one per night so far since arriving, plus a couple during the day-time. =) What with this level of lounging around, cooking, and good friends, what more could one ask for for a week's vacation?
over 'n out.
E.O.


Aaaaaaand here's the finished list of movies we actually watched:
Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist
Hancock
Australia
Howl's Moving Castle
Castle in the Sky
Cold Comfort Farm
Juno
How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days
A Knight's Tale
Fern Gully
plus a series i was introduced to...
Dollhouse
and a couple we just had to keep up with...
ANTP, Heroes, The Biggest Loser.

I THINK that's it... but I may have missed something. =) Still, good times.

Irgendwo auf der Welt

Irgendwo auf der Welt Gibt's ein kleines bißchen
Glück, Und ich träum' davon in jedem Augenblick.
Irgendwo auf der Welt Gibt's ein bißchen
Seligkeit, Und ich träum' davon schon lange lange
Zeit. Wenn ich wüßt', wo das ist, ging' ich in die
Welt hinein, Denn ich möcht' einmal recht, So von
Herzen glücklich sein. Irgendwo auf der Welt Fängt
mein Weg zum Himmel an; Irgendwo, irgendwie,
Irgendwann. Ich hab' so Sehnsucht, Ich träum' so
[ Find more Lyrics on www.mp3lyrics.org/Emv ]
oft; Einst wird das Glück mir nah sein. Ich hab'
so Sehnsucht, Ich hab' gehofft, Bald wird die
Stunde da sein. Tage und Nächte Wart' ich darauf:
Ich geb' die Hoffnung niemals auf. Irgendwo auf
der Welt Gibt's ein kleines bißchen Glück, Und ich
träum' davon in jedem Augenblick. Irgendwo auf der
Welt Gibt's ein bißchen Seligkeit, Und ich träum'
davon schon lange lange Zeit. Wenn ich wüßt', wo
das ist, ging' ich in die Welt hinein, Denn ich
möcht' einmal recht, So von Herzen glücklich sein.
Irgendwo auf der Welt Fängt mein Weg zum Himmel
an; Irgendwo, irgendwie, Irgendwann, Irgendwo,
irgendwie, irgendwann.

Comedian Harmonists

Frazzled

That is how i feel. There are so many things in my life, so much to keep straight.
Apart from holding down a job and keeping my grades nice and high (no mean feat, considering the 18 credits I chose to take on this semester and can't bear to part with), I now have to contend with more and more of the regular adult parts of life. Read: figuring out my life and finding a way to make money (and/or earn college credit? for cheaper than this money-sink I currently attend?) over the summer. Plus, I planned a beautiful Spring Break right in the middle of it all.
Next week: a project, two tests, and a meeting with a prof to discuss a paper for which i have not yet finished reading. Aah!
The week after Spring Break: two papers. Aah!
The deadline for getting my summer-life in order: Um... last week? This week? I don't even know!
All of these things weigh on me so much that my preferred option is tojust let it all go and, like the proverbial ostrich, stick my head in the sand- sand being friends, entertainment, playing in the snow, doing laundry, getting my hair cut, calling my sister, recalling my piano skills- ANYthing. Sigh.
That said, if I take it in individual pieces, without paying any attention to the clouds of work hanging perpetually over my head- I really like my life. I love some pieces and am not unhappy with others.
So, if tomorrow's classes were to be cancelled due to extreme weather... teeheehee. :P