Manifesto, Redux

So I wrote a manifesto. Now what?

Today was gargantuan, to say the least. As always, I left my grading and other teaching administrivia until the last day of vacation, instead preferring to spend most of my vacation lolling around, catching a few beers at Oktoberfest, visiting Uncle Ned's Fish Factory way more than is healthy, pretending I don't start teaching my seventh class of the semester one week from today, and ignoring the fact that Midterm Warnings are due at Ida on Friday. I did get my warnings out at NU, but that's mainly because my students this semester rock the Casbah and "No Warnings, no warnings, no warnings" is an easy three click process. I admit I did not check to see if I'm teaching student athletes (who get progress reports regardless) but I'm sure their coaches will hunt me down in the street soon enough. Still, it's nowhere near as bad as getting a call from one of Rick Barnes' cronies on a cellphone whose number I didn't give out. Ah, memories. Clemson tucked into the corner of my mind..... and oozing out.

Although I don't have any reading to expound on today (I have one chapter left on "No Man's Lands: One Man's Odyssey through The Odyssey, and will finish it as my last damn business of the day while my crimefighting partner gnashes his teeth over the Red Sox), I did take step one on my journey back into reading and writing about it. I went to the bookstore.

I just heard a thousand publishers catch their breath in anticipation and a thousand of my friends groaning.

I was good. Well, good for me in my own little version of the crackhouse, anyway.

I did start the morning with a 1000 word treatise to a friend on teaching. I was proud of it (finished it in less than 2 smokes which, when I'm inspired, is a feat). I thought about publishing it here, but decided instead to save it for a day I have this much grading to do and no holiday to fall back on. It's my free pass of the future.

Back to No Man's Lands -- I won't critique yet in case something drastically changes, but I will point out an interesting section that led to my voyage to the crackhouse that is Barnes & Noble. The author, Scott Huler, discovers early on that, while he's actually spoken on The Odyssey in some fairly hefty academic circles throughout his career, it comes to his attention that, in fact, he doesn't think he's actually read it. He remembers being assigned the book in ninth grade, but the language now appears new to him. He writes this as a testament to the book's lasting appeal and staggering impact on society, but to me it seemed like a call to action and a point of pondering. Was that true of me as well? Possibly.

I can say with all honesty that I HAVE read Moby Dick. I can also promise you I won't be revisiting it. I remember the pain and the frustration, and it would be counterproductive. My judgements on that one are in. Still, perhaps there are others I never read or that I think I read and answered questions about during my oral exams, but actually didn't. Maybe there are some I wasn't ready to start a relationship with at the time but now might be open to do so (after all, The Odyssey is an unlikely choice for a ninth grade class since it concerns a middle aged man facing his own mortality).

I didn't choose The Odyssey. Too much too soon after No Man's Lands. I did peruse the cheap classics section, though, and selected two which caught my eye. (You can't buy just one book -- it will get lonely.)

One I have not read -- Phantom of the Opera. One I definitely think I read and liked but might be deluding myself -- Jane Eyre. This begins tomorrow when I'm not just off 38 freshmen papers. Gaston Leroux and Charlotte Bronte deserve as much.

So now it's off to bed -- papers graded, email answered, blackboard checked. I'm off to Ithaca with Huler and Odysseus.