Where we start, where we finish

Two days into my freshman year at college, I had a professor correct me on the phone:

"It's Doctor, not Professor."

Oh, I thought. Huh. Doctor, Professor, whatever. I was just glad I had remembered to say something other than Miss or Missus, which I knew was not correct collegiate etiquette, and I naively thought I would be well received for my supposed manners.

"It's Doctor, not Professor."

I felt like an idiot. I was embarrassed. And totally pissed off at this woman.

Give me a break. After all, I was calling her because she was my faculty advisor for that year, the woman who would sign off on my schedule, recommend me to classes, or wave me off of others. It was a mandatory thing, but I was excited about it because she was an English prof, someone I wanted to know working in the department I wanted to work with. I had stopped by her office earlier that day only to find a note suggesting that she wasn't available (like I had been told she would be) and could I call her at such and such a time to chat. Like she had a life or something.

"It's Doctor, not Professor."

This women was condescending. That was the issue, gentle reader. After all, I'm, well, me. I don't appreciate being corrected. About anything. By anyone. Ever. Especially by a woman I had never met.

Man, am I glad I finally met her.

It didn't happen until almost three years later. We took care of the schedule-counseling thing over the phone, and I was promptly switched to another faculty advisor. Most of us were. Apparently her adopted daughter was severely sick that semester, and she had life or something to deal with.

"It's Doctor, not Professor."

I didn't even know she had children on that particular day. And I am positive that she did not mean to convey anything by her correction other than the baseline, uttermost fundamental idea that I --- a puke-faced freshman she did not know --- had not provided her with the proper title. Hence the term correction. I wish I would have known all these things, because Doctor Professor turned out to be one of the best and one of my favorite instructors at school. And I wasted two years kind of hating her and a third year kind of avoiding her until my senior year rolled around and I finally took her.

She was phenomenal. As a teacher, as a lover of literature, as an expert resource, as a human being. Talk about time wasted.

"It's Doctor, not Professor."

Indeed. I started by hating her for that comment. I finished by making that comment about her on her behalf. Shame on me for taking so long to get there.

By the way, don't let the setting throw you; this isn't a teacher-student-centric story. I hope it's bigger than that. I know I've remembered it as bigger than that.

Let's Use Some Data

I found a nice tool to predict your AP English Literature & Composition exam score at http://appass.com/calculators/englishliterature. This will help you target which portion of the exam needs more of your attention moving forward.

Reading Challenges: Ellison's Invisible Man

A few things to consider as we crack open Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man, a daunting yet rewarding read. Be aware of the following:

LENGTH AND DEPTH

This book requires reading stamina.
This book requires multiple readings of key passages.
This book requires diligence in working with symbolism, allusion, and historical context.
This book requires patience, because we will not absorb everything.

HISTORICAL KNOWLEDGE

Familiarizing ourselves with the historical context of this book is critically important to fully understanding and appreciating Ellison's ideas:
-1940s and '50s America
-Booker T. Washington
-The Harlem Renaissance
-Louis Armstrong and jazz
-Communism and the Red Scare
-More...

And please have a working definition of motif handy as we will encounter several recurring motifs as early as the Prologue. Printed right there on the page. In black and white.

I am pumped for this book!

In case you're keeping score at home:

Luchesi really is an ignoramus.

Poe's "White Canvass"

The Cask of Amontillado is one of Edgar Allan Poe's most popular short stories, and for good reason. It is dark; it is entertaining; it is suspenseful; it is compact. And if we look to connect all of these attributes with on common thread, one way to do it is to consider Poe's lack of excess. If we take a close look, gentle reader, we might notice that Poe excises exposition from this tale like a surgeon wielding a scalpel. There is nothing, nothing included that does not need to be. The opening assumption that we understand his mind (and therefore tacitly support what he's doing); the "thousand injuries" which never become clearer than that (are we talking emotional injuries? physical? did Fortunato cause Montresor to tear a meniscus playing flag football?); the grotesque gesture, a sign of the Mason's, later given by Fortunato that remains obscure and more of a means of ironic insult than a secret-society handshake... it all adds up to what is not on the page that makes this story fun. And suspenseful. And cruel.

Poe's lack of excess moves things along, with a poet's rhythm. It establishes a dark casualness about the action, culminating in a casual, semi-aware burial of the motley Fortunato. It allows for the un-commented on word-play of the name Fortunato, substituted instead for family crests and mottos, given in un-transcribed Latin (thank you, textbook footnotes!).

Poe's lack of excess exists in the negative space of the story. It is a detail not there. It resides in the white space of the canvass. And as fun as it is to enjoy a story like this, and to be put under its spell, it is harder work to analyze this component because we need to discuss the omission of details. We are required to talk in the lack. Harder, yes, but more rewarding. Discovering what Poe leaves off his page, and then understanding why these details precisely compose this sinister story will create in us an even keener ability to recognize the selection of details that make great stories great.

We are again talking about the challenging task of explaining how language impacts meaning. How style emphasizes theme. Why details, or the lack of them, matter. And not only in our reading them, but how we as communicators choose to give, or withhold, as needed.

Important Reminder:

Daisy Buchanan is the worst.

2nd Semester = Official AP Exam Prep

It is fair to say that with the start of second semester comes a sincere look at AP test preparation. This is accompanied by a whole host of emotions ranging from slight anxiety to vomitous panic to megalomaniacal arrogance. (That last one doesn't really exist; just wanted to use the word.)

I have learned of a website called Learnerator that has some good stuff. I encourage you to check it out and start the madness.

Happy clicking.

In other news, Steinbeck is awesome. Any rumblings to the contrary are simply untrue. Remember, gentle reader, sometimes different means wrong.

"I like the third Hunger Games book this much."

Driving in a Winter Wonderland

There are three kinds of Winter Weather drivers. Now I'm talking about snow on the ground, icy patches, there are probably cars in the ditch somewhere Winter Weather conditions:

1. The Deer In Headlights: scared beyond all recognition, camped out in the left lane of the expressway, driving 18 miles per hour, unmovable. This person is still wearing the hat, scarf, mittens combo first put on to scrape off the windshield. It is now 88 degrees inside the vehicle, evidenced by the fogged out windows, but Deer does not mind. Nay, Deer does not even notice. Deer bothers Professional Non-Doer because Deer refuses to move over to the right-hand lane, even though it is perfectly plowed.

2. The Honey Badger with AWD: mad as all get out that your vehicle is in his (her) way because in front of you is the vacant space of about 5 meters before hitting the next car. And the next car. And the next car. And Honey Badger is mad at them as well. You see, HB has to prove that his (her) car is awesome in the snow, so to prove this awesomeness, HB does things in the snow that he (she) wouldn't do on a sunny summer day. Because we haven't seen the ads on TV illustrating the non-skid capabilities of a Nissan Maxima or Chevy Malibu. And we aren't familiar with the traction of a Jeep Cherokee or Land Rover. And so Honey Badger shows us all of these things in real life. This bugs Professional Non-Doer because no matter how many times HB veers into the right lane and pulls up alongside and then falls back behind into the left lane to tailgate, Professional Non-Doer cannot transmute space, time, or the wall of car bumpers stacked up in front of him out of the way. Sorry Honey Badger.

3. Everybody else: just trying to get to work (or wherever) in one piece. If that means traveling at or below the speed limit, so be it. If that means driving in the only plowed lane of a two-lane highway for big stretches of the trip, even behind someone traveling slower than we might, so be it. If that means leaving earlier and not at the same time or (just to tempt the Fates) later than usual, so be it. If that ultimately means arriving late because sometimes it has to happen to ensure safety rather than beating on the steering wheel and pointing maliciously at fellow drivers through the fogged out windows of a car that is still entirely covered in snow except for a 4X5 portal wiped off the windshield and tearing by someone only to cut them off to prove some ideal of galactic importance and deciding to turn onto heavily trafficked streets not because there is space to do so but because you decided that you have waited long enough, so be it.

Assignment: Place Daisy Buchanan in the appropriate category and explain why.

Ready, Steady, Go: Short Stories

Our short stories list, with some links to full text:


The Story of an Hour by Kate Chopin
A Good Man is Hard to Find by Flannery O'Connor
The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Babylon Revisited by F. Scott Fitzgerald
The Cask of Amontillado by Edgar Allan Poe
A Rose for Emily by William Faulkner
Happy Endings by Margaret Atwood


We have a small journal activity to push us through, but let's keep it simple: our task here is to kick that literary space heater part of our brains back into action. So let us haggle with the language, let us sort out plot from theme, and let us write, write, write about it.