Friday, December 09, 2005

I can't avoid it anymore.

English 452. Class of death. Actually, I like my professor. I like most of my classmates. I even liked some of the reading. I just didn't understand it as well as I would have liked to. And now. . .

20 page paper. Due Monday.

This marks the first reading day I have ever actually spent reading. Benjamin, Brecht, Mura, JSTOR. We've all become good friends today.

"I have people I consider soul mates who don't confide in me this much."

Here's what I'm thinking: Mura says that he doesn't find a place for himself as a poet in the traditional English literary tradition. "I have to imagine myself." But how can a poet effectively accomplish this task? By establishing and acknowledging a dialectic such as those Benjamin sets up in his essays on surrealism and Brecht. A poet must take him/herself (the thesis), combine it with the outside world (the antithesis)--whether this is politics or economics or whatever, I don't care--in order to write a poem that extends to an audience greater than the poet (the sythesis). My professor wants me to act as the theorist, so I feel comfortable using my own poetic experiences to relate how me + religion or feminism has created effective poetry.

And now no one will comment because I'm not complaining about my unfulfilled sex life.


FoxyJ said...

I feel your pain. I have a 12 page Don Quixote paper due Monday morning. I have not started writing it yet. I was at a get together tonight at a prof's home when this other guy asked me how my paper was going. He's usually on top of things, so I mumbled that I hadn't started it yet. Then he told me he hadn't done his yet either. Blah. Sometimes I wonder why I'm in grad school since the writing papers part of it is not my strong point. Procrastinators unite!

editorgirl said...

We should start a support group.

B.G. Christensen said...

Could you please complain more about your unfulfilled sex life? What do you think people are reading this blog for anyway?


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