I Must Bid Thee Adieu

“In my end is my beginning.” –T.S. Eliot

Goodness, how time has flown, no? It’s the ever clichéd, “it seemed like just yesterday” comment that always stands true. Seriously, how much time has gone by and with so little thought to it? The course in itself, if I’m being honest, wasn’t too difficult. I’ve never really struggled with English, though if you’d put me in a Science class of some sort, I’d be crying at the moment from stress. However, even if I wasn’t too stressed out about the class, the lessons I’ve learned and the people I’ve met I won’t ever forget. It appears extremely nostalgic and a little “junior high graduation”; the feeling I have as I type this out. This could, of course, be because I’m graduating from AVC on Friday, but that’s all semantics, right?

I’ve been privileged enough to know Jennifer Gross for almost three years. She’s taught me and mentored me. We’ve laughed together and cried together and grown together. She is simply an astounding woman and I’m a better person for knowing her. She’s taught me a great deal, not only about literature and English, but about who I am. Who I am as a writer and as a person. I’ve learned not to be too certain of myself, but to never doubt my qualities, either. I owe a great deal to her.

Now, of course, I owe a great deal to the literature we’ve read this semester, too. Animal Farm, as it was, I’ve read several times before (there’s something so precious about politics and talking pigs that gets me every time) and I love The Great Gatsby, but going on Azar Nafisi’s journey with her girls has forever changed me (I’m forcing my best friend to read the book over the summer). As the semester comes to a close and I think back on this class and the journey I’ve taken, I can say honestly that a lot has happened to me. And, I can say with utmost honesty and pride that, like Nafisi, I’ve got through it because of literature. What’s more, I’ve pulled through because of writing as well. I’ve learned that my penned thoughts don’t always have to be liked.

It still kills me, be aware, but I’ve realized it.

I’ve learned that to write is to be (well, if you’re me, anyway). I’ve learned that the people you thought knew you sometimes don’t and the people whom others deem as “wrong” are really the best people you know. I’ve learned this through my walk with Nafisi and the other novels we’ve been given to read. I’ve changed and adapted to my surroundings and in a funny way, I can say that I myself have been reinvented through writing and literature. It’s always a wonderful thing when one goes into something one way and transforms into something completely different by its mark end. I can say I’m a stronger writer and it’s because I took this class that I can say that. I plan on keeping up with jumping into other worlds until I just can’t anymore and every tale I read I shall mark down with ink to tell the world about; these journeys I’ve embarked upon. It’s a wonderful thing to be a reader.

This Is Personal

“There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.” 

-Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith

I write a lot. It’s this thing I do to let my feelings out because I’ve never been super good with telling people how I feel. Well, my true feelings, because I’m crazy loud and I’ll give you my opinion if you ask for it (and sometimes if you don’t). So, I write. And, because I write, by definition it almost seems, I’m vulnerable to let anyone read what I’ve written. It’s almost like you’re opening yourself up for everyone to inspect; pick apart.

“I don’t like this part of you; change it.”

“Oh, wow. You really feel that about this situation? That seems rather stupid of you…”

“Your writing can really use some improvement.”

Starting out in the beginning of the semester, I honestly had no inclination that I’d be sharing my writing and personal thoughts with anyone but Jenn. And, because I’m rather good friends with Jenn and have worked with her during The Vagina Monologues, I figured, “how much closer could two women get?” so she didn’t altogether bother me. But, then she mentioned blogs and people reading my stuff and suddenly my heart dropped and I felt, for a moment, like I was going to get sick. And, then the Peer Draft Reviews, which were nightmares because people picking my writing apart nearly drove me to tears. I’m crazy passionate about my writing and very protective over it.

I often joke with my one of my friends who I swear will be published in the next couple of years (he’s brilliant; not even kidding you) and he had made an offhand comment to me a couple of days ago. “Melissa, you’d sooner protect your writing than your future children.” I’d like to say that he’s wrong, but the weight of this statement alone is what got me. How could I, surely, let people read my innermost thoughts? Even though they’re highly sarcastic and very scattered, how could I? Would I dare open myself up and let people ultimately see who I am? Because, let me tell you this, ladies and gentlemen. If you’re at all curious of who I am, read my writing. I’m all there; 100% of me.

I think that my writing hasn’t much changed in this semester. I think that I have. I’ve learned that people are going to be who they are. And they can love me or hate me, but through my writing, they learn who I am. Do I still feel horribly vulnerable whenever I click “Publish Post”? Unbelievably so. I think I’ll always be just on the “crazy side” when it comes to my writing. But, I’ve learned to accept that about myself. I’ve learned that I’m a better formal writer than I thought I was, too. I’m happy that my writing hasn’t changed because it’s such a huge part of me. But, I’d like to believe that as I mature and change, so my writing does as well. I’d like to look back fifteen or twenty years from now and weep over the writer I used to be and the writer I’m going to be then. Because if there’s one thing I’m absolutely certain of the future, it’s that I’ll always be writing. If I’m living, I’m writing.

Let's Not And Say I Did

So, I haven’t started the paper at all?

I know I know, I’m a bad person who procrastinates, but not really. Well, sometimes. But, here’s my problem. I have this horrible tendency of having every single pure intention of doing homework and research and papers, but then time just goes by and I’m stuck two days before the assignment’s due with having to do the entire thing. Here’s how it happens: I’ll tell myself, “I’m so going to get ahead on this project. Seven pages? That’s it?” and then time will go by and I’ll think, “I’ve got time. I can watch an episode of Doctor Who”. Well, one episode turns into an entire series and, okay sure, I’m up-to-date with the Doctor (which is always a treasure), but it’s literally three days before the paper’s due and I haven’t done anything for it. Well, no. I’m lying. I’ve read both books for the prompt, but that’s where my grand efforts end.

The good thing about the research paper is that I’ve read The Great Gatsby at least seven times before this, so I already had a sort-of idea for the paper when I read the prompts. I was torn between Fitzgerald and Austen, but I don’t have the patience to sit through something she’s written for a research paper. I’ve discovered that I absolutely detest Jane Austen when she’s required for a school project or paper. Other than that; if I’ve got weeks to get through Pride & Prejudice, then she’s not that bad. But, I digress, which is sort of the entire problem with the research paper for me.

If anyone’s curious, I’m absolutely planning on doing the paper today. Because here’s the thing with me: I may be science-phobic and struggle with math. I may run kind of funny, but I write a damn good paper. It normally doesn’t take me long at all to get my thoughts all lined up and put together the paper. So, the five pages that are due on Sunday don’t worry me too much, simply because I’ve written a ten-paged paper for Jenn before (Women’s Lit, anyone?). Am I bragging? I hate bragging…for the most part. But, okay, so moving away from the bragging because I’m supposed to be venting.

But, I find that I don’t much desire to vent. Well, about the paper. I can vent about the rest of my classes. It’s rather amazing how terribly fed up with school I get at the end of the semester. However, the paper is genuinely the least of my worries. I figure that after I get the six pages written, all I have to worry about it studying for my other classes. This, as you can imagine, will be a big stress-reliever. Also, I just realized how truly scatterbrained I sound in this blog. I’m all over the place. Can I say that it’s because I’m struggling with the paper even though I’m not and my being scatterbrained is just me in general and mostly without sleep? I totally just wrote a run-on sentence. There I go with rambling again.

The Overabuse Of Commas

I like commas. I like commas a lot. I tend to write long-winded sentences that really shouldn’t be placed together, but are, because I really like to use commas and sometimes semi-colons. But, really. Commas are my friend and I use them so often in writing, which subsequently turns into online communication style, right? I’ve also been told that I’m not brief nor to the point. This, naturally, was told to me by my person (aka the best friend), but I knew this before. I use tons of detail and I’m a rambler. Both in real-life and in virtual-life. Let’s have an example, shall we? I think we shall.

I just got into Doctor Who recently and I’m slightly obsessive when it comes to things I really like and I really like the show, so it’s mostly been on my mind all the time lately. So, I’m watching it (I love the 10^th Doctor if anyone’s curious; David Tennant is the best Doctor there is) and it’s then I realize: I’m so much like the Doctor when it comes to his ramblings. (Sidenote: I’m mostly, really, like Rose Tyler. My friends even call me by the name.) During David Tennant’s first episode as the Doctor, I remember thinking that I’m very much like him in how he communicates; both online and in real-life.

“Well…you could do that. Yeah, you could do that. Of course you could! But, why? Look at these people; these human beings. Consider their potential! From the day they arrive on the planet, blinking, step into the sun, there is more to see than can ever be seen, more to do than – no, hold on. Sorry, that’s The Lion King.” Let me pause here for a moment to explain that this is me. Well, not literally because I’m not the Doctor, but I have this tendency of getting off on tangents and becoming passionate and I think that this style of communication says a lot about me. Mostly because it exhibits my ADHD tendencies. I think my communication style says a lot about my personality.

I hardly deviate from who I am, regardless of whether I’m typing my thoughts or speaking them directly. I’m long-winded and highly dramatic and this is all in how I communicate. I’d like to think that it communicates that I’m not really any different over the Internet than I am if I were speaking directly to you. Granted, if I’m writing a formal paper, then I’ll be a bit more refined; but that makes me sound like I’m unrefined and in a way I am, but not in a bad way. Basically, I guess I’m different only when I’m writing formally. Other than that, my communication style is the same as how I communicate if we were having a conversation face-to-face.

It’s interesting, how often I use commas. It really never occurred to me how often I use them until my best friend (my person, if you remember correctly) pointed it out, but I’m fairly partial to them, so it’s not really that big of a deal to me. At least I use them correctly. But, yes. There’s my online communication style. Allons-y.

Reading Lolita in Lancaster

“If I turned towards books, it was because they were the only sanctuary I knew, one I needed in order to survive, to protect some aspect of myself that was now in constant retreat.” –Azar Nafisi

Reading has always been my sanctuary of sorts. When I read, I escape. Such was the life of Azar Nafisi. Going into reading this novel, I honestly didn’t think I’d be all that interested in it. I’m not a big non-fiction girl, so I thought the novel would be dry and uninteresting. How wrong I was. My favorite thing about this book is her ability to romanticize Tehran and the struggles the city goes through in the novel. I know that sounds weird and slightly inappropriate to say and, trust me, I’ve struggled with accepting it, too. But, think about it. Nafisi works through fiction to bring us this picture of Tehran and her world she lived in with her girls. It was frightening, but it was so beautiful at the same time.

She showed us that literature can free you. Literature can literally help you to survive. If we think about her group of girls, they were kept together emotionally and mentally through the novels they read through; the novels they lived. They went to trial with Gatsby and sympathized with Lolita. Throughout the bombings and the discrimination, the deaths and decay, they lived through it. They lived through it because they had words to keep them alive; to keep going. If I took anything away from Reading Lolita in Tehran, it was this. It’s this drive to live through anything the world throws at you simply because words motivate you to do so.

There’s a part in the novel that I will never forget; where the quote I chose comes from. Tehran is going through her share of bombings and every night it happens. Nafisi shares her fear of the bombs reaching her and her family. And, her way of dealing with it was to sit in front of her children’s bedroom every night with a book in her hand. She would read as bombs went off, sitting guard to protect her children. What I remember most from that passage was the impression I got of her truly protecting herself in that moment as well. She did what she needed to protect her kids, but her books truly protected her. How much we as a civilization that doesn’t have to worry about such things take this for granted.

Some, like me, take refuge in books. So many heroes and heroines to relate to; to cheer on. We can submerse ourselves in literature and fight the fight with them. We can fall for the boy in the novel who screams out the word “underdog”. We can conquer evil, but really, we’re living through our own struggles by escaping. Nafisi shows such a great example of just this. She showed her girls not only the wonderful world of literature, but what you could take away from it. Her girls got her message and so did I.