"The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering.
I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,"
Let us sound our barbaric yawps over the rooftops of the school.
Uncle Walt never went to college, but that didn't stop him from feeling. Indeed, I think that's what I would say the primary occupation of a poet of his sort would be titled -- a feeler. Esquire. Because why not? He could put it on a business card, 'Walt Whitman, Feeler, Esq.' And it'd be okay because he's a poet, and they're weird like that.
But here's the thing, how do we find a balance between feeling and doing? How do we not just stand and gab and yawp, to the chagrin of the hawks all around us, but also get something worthwhile done? Very subjective subject, 'what is worthwhile.' What I think are worthwhile are the courses in which I'm currently engaged. Let me tell you about them.
French 137: Studies in Contemporary French Culture
Did I mention that I was a French minor? I'm a French minor. This means six courses above Intermediate French. This is two course credits fewer than the major, and does not require studying abroad, something that, alas, doesn't fit into my particular schedule, but of which many many others I know are taking advantage.
The course is taught in French, which is reasonable, and consists mostly of reading novels, writing short papers on them, and oral reports. The literature interests me, which is nice. There's hardly a thing worse than reading something boring in another language (which, I gather, is how some English-speaking people feel about Walt Whitman).
Presently, we're onto our second book, "Beni, ou le paradis prive," by Azouz Begag. It concerns itself with the story of Algerian immigrant parents in Lyon, France, and their children, and is narrated by a young man, a son, Beni. The scene opens on Christmas, and explores the tension between the cultures in a rather humorous way. I'm fairly certain the rest of the book will not retain this tone, which makes it exciting.
We already read and analyzed "Journal du dehors," by Annie Ernaux, which is a sort of sociological-poetical narrative of the narrator's (author's? -- we assume) life in a French housing development ("la Ville Nouvelle") from 1985-1992. I'd recommend it for a zen outside-in look on modern city life. It's also available in a English under the title "Exteriors," translated by Tanya Leslie. I, personally, found this translation to be very succinct, and to capture the same rhythm and feel as the original work, but, of course, the original's (almost) always better.
There's a point or two to be made here about using English translations to aid reading foreign-language material: they must always be taken with a grain of salt, and one should always read the original before the translation, if only to see if one can understand without training wheels. I always keep a French-English dictionary on hand (an actual book that I can carry with me), but I also have a super-cool French-only 'Larousse' dictionary if I'm looking for an in-depth explanation of a French word. These things come in handy when you ask Google translate the word for "skunk," for example, and you get five different words that all mean different things, and only one actually refers to the animal for which you're looking, and then you find out in class that the colloquial French word for skunk (une mouffette) is actually a word that means 'polecat' (un putois), and you want to sort things out. For example.
Psychology 120: Intro to Cognitive Psychology
Think about what you're reading right now. Think about what it means, what it looks like, why you know what it means and looks like. Are you doing it? Then you're cognicising. Or, cognizing, which is actually a verb. (The verb 'cogitate' means to think, and finds its roots in Latin, as seen in the phrase cogito ergo sum ("I think, therefore I am") but doesn't fully capture the essence of cognitive psychology. Now it's relevant multi-field history fact dropping time: Descartes originally formulated his famous proposition in his native French as "Je pense, donc je suis," (1637) before he translated and arranged his work into Latin (1644).
Topics covered include memory, sensation, and what the different parts of the brain do.
The class is also home to top 40 Radio Hits. Sort of. Our professor, Igor Bascandziev, prefaces each lecture with a song over the speakers while people are coming in. If there's music playing you're on time. It's pretty relaxing.
Theater 153: Modern Drama
In this class, we read plays, we talk about plays, and we watch film versions of plays. There is no unnecessary part of this class. Each play is required reading for anyone pursuing a career in theatre. We've gone over Chekhov's "The Seagull" and "Uncle Vanya," which I thoroughly, melancholily enjoyed, as well as Ibsen's "A Doll's House." We've just embarked on the Theatre of the Absurd, a favorite subject of mine.
Tune in next time and I'll tell you about a secret mystery course of mystery in which I am also enrolled.
