Seminary seems so far away from my current reality of bluff walking and singing and fellowship with friends around tables dorm and otherwise. Yes, I attended my final class via phone Tuesday, and really, I meant to have the paper done before ever I left Rochester. I worked on it, but between one thing and another, coupled with some sort of writer's block, it never became a done deal.
Every single night I remind myself that I must work on this paper who's topic is so far removed from anything I am working on here. Flannery O'Connor is a prickly pear in any setting, but particularly here in the beauty and quietness of this peaceful campus, I do not wish to engage with her twisted characters, her grotesque stories, her dark portrayal of depravity.
Flannery - odd name - is new to me. I have never read her stories before. But I picked her from the list, and I am stuck with the assignment of describing whether or not she believed, with Dostoevsky, that "Beauty Will Save the World." I suspect my blockage begins with the total lack of any beauty in Flannery's stories. Even her characters have warts and lack distinguishing features. Her landscapes are gray, her treatment of the peculiar handled so as to mislead us into thinking that the behavior is normal.
By her own admission, she must gain the attention of an uncaring and complacent audience by being "out there" in the shock factors. And we are shocked when we read the cavalier murders the Misfit carrys out in A Good Man is Hard to Find, or the self mutilation of the 'preacher' in Wise Blood.
Sigh. Well, there is no help for it. I simply have to make myself confront my mental stymies and get cracking. Due dates are due dates and carry them out I must. But, really. 20 pages? Arghh.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment