a literary Rorschach test
I feel rather like I'm drowing in my 20th Century Lit. and "New" Writing class. It's not like I haven't taken a 20th Century Literature class before, but this experimental crap is floating, quite swiftly and relentlessly, over my head. Reading Rimbaud, I recognized and acknowledged from the start that I did not understand what I was reading and furthermore (possibly as a consequence of this lack of comprehension) I sincerely and passionately was not enjoying it. It was mish mash of words strung together with seemingly no particular purpose or, more bluntly, (as Ben and I so eloquently put it), it was nonsensical, esoteric bullshit. It turns out that I just don't "get it".
More troubling was Baudelaire. Now, I read him with pleasure and felt that I had a decent grasp on what was being said only to find, upon arriving in class, that I have no fucking clue what was going on. I do not like this feeling. I have always been the good English student, I have always "gotten it", I have never floundered so deeply/pathetically before ... it's scary and I don't really know what to do.
Admittedly, part of me is biased because no one enjoys the feeling of incompetance but ... I do not like this "experimental" writing. I don't like creative license so freely given that most things mean nothing and that makes them mean something. I'm not asking for straightforward, literal answers but it feels so much like everything we've read is mired with pretension and elitism. Like it's meant for "intellectuals" (whatever that means) and the collegiate types who dress all in black and look down upon anyone who can't name twenty significant (read: obscure) modern authors off the top of their head. It's a club that I don't want to be a part of and probably couldn't be a part of even if I tried.
I guess for the first time I'm feeling the strain of college being something shallow and superficial. I don't need to have a mental catalogue of French authors to feel good about myself and my writing. Yet, without that, I am absolutely nothing in this class. I suppose I should point out that it's not the teacher's fault ... he seems like a very decent person but he's talking for people far more at ease with the material than I. It's the material and (if I'm being completely honest) a few of the students ... I've never felt more alienated in an English course in my life and it's tragic because the English language, literature and the art of writing is always something I've taken pleasure in. Now I sit there and feel like a waste of the classes' space and the teacher's time.
More troubling was Baudelaire. Now, I read him with pleasure and felt that I had a decent grasp on what was being said only to find, upon arriving in class, that I have no fucking clue what was going on. I do not like this feeling. I have always been the good English student, I have always "gotten it", I have never floundered so deeply/pathetically before ... it's scary and I don't really know what to do.
Admittedly, part of me is biased because no one enjoys the feeling of incompetance but ... I do not like this "experimental" writing. I don't like creative license so freely given that most things mean nothing and that makes them mean something. I'm not asking for straightforward, literal answers but it feels so much like everything we've read is mired with pretension and elitism. Like it's meant for "intellectuals" (whatever that means) and the collegiate types who dress all in black and look down upon anyone who can't name twenty significant (read: obscure) modern authors off the top of their head. It's a club that I don't want to be a part of and probably couldn't be a part of even if I tried.
I guess for the first time I'm feeling the strain of college being something shallow and superficial. I don't need to have a mental catalogue of French authors to feel good about myself and my writing. Yet, without that, I am absolutely nothing in this class. I suppose I should point out that it's not the teacher's fault ... he seems like a very decent person but he's talking for people far more at ease with the material than I. It's the material and (if I'm being completely honest) a few of the students ... I've never felt more alienated in an English course in my life and it's tragic because the English language, literature and the art of writing is always something I've taken pleasure in. Now I sit there and feel like a waste of the classes' space and the teacher's time.