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Thursday, December 12, 2002 English Majors I can't wait to be done with the semester (finally!)--I just hope that I can make it through. Last week I realized that I had around 40 pages of papers to write before the end of the term, and most of them are/were due this week. Yikes! They've been getting finished one by one, but it's a slow process... so far, 22 pages to go, I think. On Tuesday night I didn't go to bed; I took a 3.5 hour nap in the afternoon--and now it's already Thursday morning and I haven't been able to sleep yet either. I have another paper due tomorrow. That's what I get for majoring in English and Theatre. Argh. Don't get me wrong, I love writing--creative writing. But I've been getting incredibly cynical about the whole atmosphere of English departments as I've gotten further along in school; if you want to write, don't major in English. If you want to learn how to create strange interpretations of (literally) any piece of written material (or just about anything, really), then English is where you want to be. We're less interested in what authors think than in making our own assumptions and seeing if we can get the text to justify what we've written. I love reading and analyzing literature in order to see how other people's minds work--I enjoy trying to get inside others' heads---I want to know what novels tell us about the human condition, about where people are coming from, about our hopes, dreams, lives, loves, struggles. It's fascinating to watch a writer at his craft... but not fascinating enough that I could spend entire papers writing about the difference in the styles of Hemingway versus Angelou. So I guess I'm a bad English major--I honestly don't care about those kinds of topics. I'd rather discuss a book with a group of friends than write about it. A good English major--my roommate Elise, for example--can write that so-and-so author obviously meant to discuss the implications of yin and yang because in one part of the novel a white man was the only figure in a group a black men and in another the situation was reversed, thus creating the visual image of yin and yang. You get the picture. Professors eat that stuff up... but more often than not, I simply don't buy it. It's fun to think about, but putting that on paper gives it a certain degree of validity that I'd rather not attach. And my other rant: everything is phallic. Who indoctinated all these poor profs (and students) with Freudian theories? And they are just theories. Not everyone thinks about sex all of the time... and a hot dog doesn't have to be a phallic symbol. It may be a strong urge, but our society places so much emphasis on sex it's ridiculous. We are defined by so much more than our sexual relationships... and not every girl wants to sleep with her father, nor every boy with his mother. Somehow every English professor I've had--exceptions aren't coming readily to mind--has had a love affair with Freud. This even started in high school, when one of my teachers told us that To Kill a Mockingbird is really about sex. Geez.... So I guess it's a good thing that I only have a semester left (barring total failage of all my classes!). I can't handle the grind of paper-writing-crazy-interpretation-making anymore. Christmas break is going to do wonders for me... I can't wait to find time to work on a few short stories and songs and play the instruments I've been neglecting. And maybe finally finish the website and that elusive cd!It'd be nice to spend some time with God too... my relationship with him hasn't been so hot lately, and it's my fault for not putting the time in. I can't wait to be able to relax... only a few more days to go.... ^ Top | 6:38 AM | | | 
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