Everybody have fun tonight.
Everybody Wang Chung tonight.
Today I crossed off the one hundreth entry on my prelims reading list. Granted, there are one hundred and fifty entries on there, thus making one hundred only two thirds of the list. Also granted that of that one hundred, only twenty five are poetry (out of fifty two). Still, that one hundred feels pretty good to me. Hence the Wang Chunging. And my little 100 Dance, which was quite amusing, if constricted by all the books on my floor. Now, to further celebrate, I'm going to "read" one of the entries that I've already read in the past. As far as novels go, the only ones I have left are ones I've read before or ones I don't plan to read at all (I don't care how good it is, I'm not reading Meatless Days, a collection of short stories about living in Pakistan.) So perhaps I'll celebrate in the quiet madness of The Crying of Lot 49. Or just go nuts and skim through Storyteller, which I've taught multiple times. Do I know how to have a good time, or what?
Yesterday, before the giddiness and the dancing, I read Wallace Stegner's Crossing to Safety, an elegantly simple novel about friendship in 20th century America. This book is not very complicated, but is very heartfelt and touching, and I count it one of the gems I've discovered that I hadn't imagined before. The novel is particularly interesting as the main characters are either academics or the wives of academics, and they all teach at the University of Wisconsin-Madison in the late 1930s. So they go to parties on Van Hise (where the head of our graduate program lives now), they rent a boat from the Union and nearly drown in Lake Mendota (that's what they get for not having Fangirl as their sailing instructor), and they travel up and down State Street, among other things. I am pleased to note that many things have not changed in academia since the '30s. They still drink a ton (although I was disconcerted by the repeated instances of the wives getting hammered whilst pregnant), they still complain about grading papers, and they still worry about getting jobs and tenure (I guess the Depression is comparable to today's glut of the market). And, as an historical side note, the English Department offices used to be in Bascom Hall, apparently, before Helen C. White (our current home) was built.
Part of me enjoyed this reading because of the familiar references and literary discussions, in a kind of academic masturbatory way. Part of me also did not need to start feeling fear of being an academic failure, as one of the characters is, right before I take prelims. It was just close enough to home to really add to the nerves. Of course, he became a rich and successful novelist, but I don't really see that in the cards for me. But then, I guess that means I won't have a polio-stricken wife, either, which kind of balances the scales. Still, it was an enjoyable read, straightforward and honest, and well-written. Rather different from most of the other things I've read thus far.
Ok, back to the paper grindstone. Good luck to all my fellow readers out there, and to my boys and girls from elsewhere, raise a glass for me when you get a chance. I'll do the same for you tomorrow when I'm out drinking. Except for Hubris and Batkodez. You know why. (And Ford Madox Ford isn't on my list, so nyah nyah.)
4 comments:
Oh, I remember really liking Crossing to Safety. I should reread it.
Laaaaaaaaaame!
If you're going to Wang Chung, do it properly. Get hammered.
Now there's a thought.... drunken prelim studying.
Angle of Repose is also pretty good.
Don't drink too hard - or was that study too hard - no, I think drink is probably more appropriate.
I just linked to you.
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