Borges
I would like to informally note that Borges is one of the more difficult things to teach.
I have an intro lit class, and was faced with the task of tackling "Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote" today in discussion.
A sea of blank faces stared back at me as I found myself asking "so as an intelligent reader responding to the response that the narrator gives to Menard's possible intentional expression in these lines of the Quixote when we know that Menard doesn't actually exist - what can one say about Borges's project for this text?" And this was one of the less complicated sentences. The problem with multi-layered texts (especially satire) is that one must address all the layers in order to make any sense of it at all.
The beauty of my class is that they generally understood my ramblings and made nice work of the most complicated story that I have yet had to teach. I am so impressed with them - partially because I'm absolutely sure that I was not that smart as an undergrad.
Walking to the library with Kerri, I mentioned the multi-layered-ness of Borges and said (in what I find to be a very apt metaphor) that "reading Borges is like pureeing an entire dinner and drinking it in 5 seconds through a straw - then you have to somehow discern between the carrot, steak, and chocolate cake tastes, examining each one critically." She said that my analysis was a bit gross (admitted) and that she would liken it to fine wine. And that, folks, is the difference between my take on literature and everyone else's take on literature - they think of wine, I think of Hungry Jack.
In any case - today was also, inexplicably, spent at IKEA where Kerri and I helped Noelle to procure a fancy schmancy new dresser for her new apartment. This was followed by a frantic drive back to HP in hopes that I would make it before class. Ahhhh Chicago traffic.
Now I'm off to pick up Allyson for dinner and movie watching.
I have an intro lit class, and was faced with the task of tackling "Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote" today in discussion.
A sea of blank faces stared back at me as I found myself asking "so as an intelligent reader responding to the response that the narrator gives to Menard's possible intentional expression in these lines of the Quixote when we know that Menard doesn't actually exist - what can one say about Borges's project for this text?" And this was one of the less complicated sentences. The problem with multi-layered texts (especially satire) is that one must address all the layers in order to make any sense of it at all.
The beauty of my class is that they generally understood my ramblings and made nice work of the most complicated story that I have yet had to teach. I am so impressed with them - partially because I'm absolutely sure that I was not that smart as an undergrad.
Walking to the library with Kerri, I mentioned the multi-layered-ness of Borges and said (in what I find to be a very apt metaphor) that "reading Borges is like pureeing an entire dinner and drinking it in 5 seconds through a straw - then you have to somehow discern between the carrot, steak, and chocolate cake tastes, examining each one critically." She said that my analysis was a bit gross (admitted) and that she would liken it to fine wine. And that, folks, is the difference between my take on literature and everyone else's take on literature - they think of wine, I think of Hungry Jack.
In any case - today was also, inexplicably, spent at IKEA where Kerri and I helped Noelle to procure a fancy schmancy new dresser for her new apartment. This was followed by a frantic drive back to HP in hopes that I would make it before class. Ahhhh Chicago traffic.
Now I'm off to pick up Allyson for dinner and movie watching.
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