Closet Drama

This post is not about gay theater (although when my professor wrote 'closet drama' on the board last week, that was my first thought).  Instead, it's about theater and drama as a school of literature.  Man, do I sound smart!

I just finished -- well, I have to send my take-home final back by three-o-clock on Tuesday, but don't rain on my parade -- my most painful class ever.  EVER.  Not just of graduate school, but of all classes, ever, in my life.  I won't get into details; I might need some references some day in the future, but it was a painful class.  Imagine getting talked AT for three hours, twice a week, and about half of that time is spent telling stories that don't relate to class (and, I'm convinced, are all made up!).  There was very little discussion, we lost points on reading quizzes -- yes, I took reading quizzes in my grad class -- if we disagreed with his opinion, and he gave me a B+/A- on my short paper.  You need to pick!  That's a pretty wide span of points... VENT VENT VENT.   Okay, I'm better now.

Regardless, last night was the final class of the semester, and although we all ran out the door, I did take a few interesting tidbits with me.  Closet Drama has nothing to do with homosexuality; instead, it refers to a genre of drama that is meant to be read, or done in a small group reading.  They weren't intended for the stage, although some have now become stage performances.  Faust, for instance, by Goethe, was written as a closet drama.

I was never thrilled about reading plays.  I think my first real experience with it was The Miracle Worker in 7th grade, and I recall doing a lot of acting and watching film clips.  Then we moved on to Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream in 8th grade and Romeo and Juliet in 9th, but again, we mostly just acted things out or watched the movie.  In tenth grade we listened to The Merchant of Venice, but I won't go into that because I've already ranted and raved enough.  My first real interaction with drama was with Hamlet and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf in my AP class senior year.  That was the first time we read drama as a work of literature instead of script.

My point is that reading drama isn't structured well in most instances.  When I teach A Raisin in the Sun, I have students analyze stage directions, and I'm always amazed when they don't know what those are.  Reading 8 plays over the past 5 weeks has been enlightening; there needs to be a better way to teach drama.  It also opened my eyes to the idea that not all drama should be performed.

In context, I was given free tickets to two shows last week; I saw the new Neil Labute play Reasons to be Pretty on Sunday, and Angels in American, Part 1 on Wednesday night.  I was introduced to Labute during my summer course; we read two of his plays from Bash, which were beautifully written, interesting and deep pieces, based on ancient Greek plays.  I was thrilled about free tickets to the show.

I think, deep down, Labute is a closet dramatist.  It wasn' that the play was bad, but I found myself wanting to read it instead of watching it played out in front of me.  The actors were good, the staging was good, the music felt slightly after-school special, but I really couldn't get into it.  I found myself wondering if I would have enjoyed it more had I read the play first.  Much like turning a book into a movie, taking a script and turning it into an actual performance can be a let down.  There are so many interpretations out there -- I did my final project on Antigone, and there have been countless productions of that play done in a variety of ways, based on the vision of the director.  Are we teaching kids to be lazy by simply showing the film?

I found myself wanting a copy of the script, to follow along, or to go back over on my way home.  I wanted to see if the production was just missing something, or if I honestly just didn't really love the play.  There was so much potential there, I just wanted to analyze it, word for word, get something out of it that I couldn't get from watching 4 people yell at each other on the stage.

Angels in America, on the other hand?  AMAZING. I'm dying to read it, but for a completely different reason.  I'm attempting to broaden my horizons when it comes to literature.  My 52 books list included non-fiction for that very reason; I don't read enough of certain genres, drama included.  SO for my summer reading list, which will branch off of my 52 books list, I want drama suggestions.  Any plays you think are worth checking out, let me know.  I'm trying here!

The Alchemist and Personal Legends

I feel the need to go back to an earlier post and discuss a bit further how I feel about one of the books I recently read.  Today is just one-of-those-days, and you all know what I'm talking about, where I just feel very blah.  I have moments where my life feels very unsatisfying, where I feel overly depressed, but can't pinpoint any actual reason, where I have no motivation to do anything.   And I LOVE to complain about days like today in my blog!  It's my blog, so na-na-na-boo-boo to you.

In trying to keep myself upbeat, I want to talk a bit about The Alchemist, a really lovely book that has been compared to The Little Prince, another simple, lovely, allegorical novel.  The Alchemist is one of those used-book-sale-at-the-library purchases -- reminder to self, renew your library books so you don't have another obscene fine -- and I'm so glad that it was a recommendation for my project.

I'm not a huge fan of self-help books, so I prefer to get my life lessons through fiction.  The Alchemist is really about what each of our purposes is throughout life: our Personal Legends, as it is called in the novel.  Our Personal Legends is determined by fate, but it is up to each of us to follow the path, or to ignore the messages from out heart.  The main character gives up everything he has always known to follow a path set forth in a dream.  Along the way he meets people who help him on his quest, but it is always through struggle, and it never comes easily.

One of my favorite messages (or storylines, depending on how literal you want to take this) from the novel is about the heart; the boy (our main character) attempts to communicate with his heart, and begins to understand how things work:

"Everyone on earth has a treasure that awaits him," his heart said.  "We, people's hearts, seldom say much about those treasures, because people no longer want to go in search of them.  We speak of them only to children.  Later, we simply let life proceed, in its own direction, toward its own fate.  But, unfortunately, very few follow the path laid out for them -- the path to their Personal Legends, and to happiness.  Most people see the world as a threatening place, and, because they do, the world turns out, indeed, to be a threatening place.
"So, we, their hearts, speak more and more softly.  We never stop speaking out, but we begin to hope that our words won't be heard: we don't want people to suffer because they don't follow their hearts."
"Why don't people's hearts tell them to continue to follow their dreams?" the boy asked the alchemist.
"Because that's what makes a heart suffer most, and hearts don't like to suffer."
From then on, the boy understood his heart.  He asked that it, please, never to stop speaking to him.  He asked that, when he wandered far from his dreams, his heart press him and sound the alarm.  The boy swore that, every time he heard the alarm, he would heed its message. (Coelho, 131-2)

As we grow up, according to the heart, we don't want to be reminded of our Personal Legends, because it's too upsetting to realize we've not achieved what we secretly (or, perhaps, not so secretly) desire.  Occasionally we don't even know what would make us happy because we aren't willing to experiment.  Other times, we are willing to make jokes about the things we want in a facade of our own emotions.  And, more often than not, we simply just push those dreams to the side in the face of 'real life.'

Once upon a time, I had a dream to be a writer.  And, although I occasionally update my blog and I do keep a writer's journal, I realized very early on that was not a logical dream.  I don't have the talent, the resources, or the lifestyle for that type of adventure.  Or do I?  Am I just giving myself excuses, so that I won't feel regret about never trying?

My first grad class was about writing memoir, and the feedback I received from the other students (and my professor) was part of what encouraged me to at least start this blog.  Unfortunately, in most areas of my life, I tend to ignore my heart, and play it safe.  And, to a certain extent, I don't know if I ever have a true comprehension of what my Personal Legend might be.

I'm trying to take the negativity and turn it instead to my search.  My new goal: relax, and say yes.  I need to be calm and take everything that comes to me as a possible part of my personal legend and my path. And perhaps this blog isn't a bad start.

What is your personal legend?  And how will you achieve it?

My life is a joke

For my second summer graduate course, I'm taking an online class about technology in the classroom.  Assignment one?  Create a blog!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA this is why my life is a joke.

I am being forced to keep a blog -- although it seems like we are only required to blog twice, which seems a little odd -- and I find that f*cking hilarious.  I suppose if I was graded on this blog, I'd actually update more than once every 4 months.  Or I'd fail.  That's always an option (regardless of what I'm forced to tell students).  Perhaps, though, I will update that blog more often than just the 2 required posts, but probably not.  Is it strange that my only problem with the blog assignment is that I have to use WordPress (which is fine, but I prefer blogger) AND that I have to title it SLM508LAB?  Honestly, I hate the blog only because of the name.  It's the course tag and my initials, just in case you were dying to know.  How boring and awful is that name?  I am just so vain.  (I probably think this blog is about me)

All that aside, as much as I complain about grad school, I finally feel like something will be worthwhile.  Looking at the syllabus is terrifying because I feel like she's trying to squeeze in every type of technology possible into an 8 week class, but as I skimmed it, I saw things that should be interesting.  I finally activated my Google Reader account, and I can't wait to see the Digital Storytelling resources, but some of it bugs me.  I have to use Twitter, for instance, and I gave up on twitter because it pissed me off too much.  I also hate that I have to make multiple accounts for essentially the same things I already use for this class.  I need a new Flickr account, a new GoodReads account, and probably others, but I'm too lazy to go through everything just to complain.

Basically, my life is insane until I leave for Italy.  REMINDER: Tell you professor you are going to Italy and need to finish assignments a few days early!

In other news, I am teaching as a fake long-term-sub at my old high school for a woman out on bedrest through the end of the year.  The good news is she may take maternity leave at the beginning of the next school year, so if all the thousands of jobs for English teachers fall through (sarcasm at its finest) that might be something I at least get an interview for.  I also spent 4 days reading as a sub for the librarian at a high school and as an English teacher who was just proctoring exams (so sad).  I tore through 4 books in 4 days, and it feels really great to cross a few more books off the list.

This is me in Chicago, excited about books.  Also, it totally says "Cock Dancing" behind me.

I picked up 8 books at a used book sale a few weeks back.  One of the local public libraries was selling books for a dollar, and as a sucker for cheap literature, I made a U-Turn and went in.  Okay, if you want to get literal, it was a horribly executed K-turn, but still.  The physical turning around did happen.  I bought 5 books from my list, and 3 others that will eventually go on a shelf in the hypothetical future classroom.  I can honestly say that I loved the 4 I read, and The Reader is rumored to be excellent, as well.

I don't know or remember who recommended these books for my list, but THANK YOU.

• The Alchemist (this is already on my mom's summer list, mostly because I told her she had no choice)
• The Hours
• Wide Sargasso Sea (Don't lie to me and say you recommended it; I just thought about it, and realized it was one of the originals because of my love for Jane Eyre)
• Bastard out of Carolina

I'll do some individual comments on these later, since this post is already MUCH longer than I normally make you suffer through, but they were each magnificent, and if you read them, we can chat about them :)

"Stupid people are dangerous."

You might recall my earlier posting about Suzanne Collins' trilogy, The Hunger Games, which you can check out here.  I had to read the book for my grad class last semester, and I tore through it, and then tore through the other two.  I loved the books.  Seriously, I LOVE THE BOOKS.  I have a soft spot for Young Adult lit, and I even have a soft spot for crappy YA lit, but these books made me feel like I was discovering Harry Potter all over again.  I love Harry Potter more, but I now had a new world of characters to discover and get to know.

Yes, I am one of those weirdos who feels like book characters and authors are my besties.  I cried a little bit when Maurice Sendak died (that post will come at a later point) because, growing up, I felt like we were buddies.  I don't feel that way about Suzanne Collins -- sorry, ma'am -- but the characters she created?  Man, I wish I could hang out with some of them.

Well, let me rephrase that.  I'd like to hang out with them in my world.  I don't want to live in Panem.  That place totally sucks.

So it's been 2 months since the film came out, and I still have not seen the movie.  This wasn't an HP movie, so I didn't feel the need to do a midnight showing, but I still really wanted to see the film.  My parents saw it last week, so I convinced Anthony that we're going today.  And in 4 hours, I'll FINALLY be seeing the movie I've been excited about since they announced the plans to make the film.

I'm not sure what it is about books into movies, but I seem to put off seeing the films (Again, Harry Potter is a weird exception, and it has its own set of rules, so don't question me) because I have this underlying fear that they'll ruin the book.  Most of the time, they do.

I also have an issue with people who see movie series based on books -- or even single films -- and claim that makes reading the book a non-issue.  Are you kidding me?  Stupid people are dangerous.  Thank you, Collins, for agreeing with me on that point.  I was always appalled when students told me they'd "watched the movie instead."  How can you possibly expect to get the same out of a film?  Granted, I've used films in classes; when reading The Secret Life of Bees, for example, we watched segments of the film instead of reading them in class, but that was partly a timing issue and partly a 'none-of-these-damn-kids-read' issue.  I do think some film versions of books are amazing -- I love showing To Kill A Mockingbird -- but for the most part, films are watered-down versions of amazing stories.

Think about how many people saw The Help, but wouldn't ever pick up the book.  Or, for my fellow readers, have you ever run into someone who told you they saw a movie, and when you say 'oh, did you read the book?' they respond with 'that was a book?'

Stupid people are dangerous.

I understand reading is difficult for some people.  Trust me, I teach middle and high schoolers.  I get it.  But to tell me a book is more boring than the movie?  That's just laziness.  My boyfriend is one of those people.  It's a point of contention with us, but I suppose I'm used to it by now.  I like to buy books for him, just to see what he'll do with them, but for the most part the one just sits on the back of his toilet.  Books are never more boring than movies, it's just hard for people to get pictures from the words.  A movie cuts out all the work, but is that the best way to go about it?

There's something to be said about reading the books first.  I'll let you know how I feel about the movie.

A Passage to India

I suppose at this point it shouldn't shock me to log in and see the last time I posted.  ALMOST TWO MONTHS AGO?  How could I let it get this bad?

Truthfully, I feel bad -- not for any of my 'readers' who have since given up on my actually completing this project -- but, selfishly enough, for myself and my horrific lack of motivation.  I find that the more effort I put into things, the less I get out of it.  It's really a downer.  I apply for job after job, day after day, and I either hear nothing back or, true story, I get an interview and a job offer and somehow STILL end up without a job.  Much like Voldemort, that will be the job-interview-that-must-not-be-mentioned.

I really have to remind myself that this blog -- and most other things in my life -- are for me.  They aren't for anyone else.  Yes, I love to write and I love to share, but this blog is for me.  I started it during a rather low part of my life, and much has changed since then.  One day I will go back and reread some of these posts and think to myself 'wow, you were really insane.'  Then I'll remind myself of the goal for this blog, and think 'okay, okay, you had some decent insights back then.  And,' I'll hopefully think to myself, 'you've come a long way.'

Or, I might just delete the whole thing in embarrassment.

The point is I'm trying to stop beating myself up for the little things.  This is a side project, something fun, and although I wish I was updating more often, I'm not going to freak out anymore over 1 month, or even 2.

Right now, I'm reading A Passage to India by E. M. Forster.  It's a slow process because I only really pick it up during prep periods while subbing, but it's excellent.  It's also the last book on the syllabus for my grad class that ended on April 30th.  I didn't finish the book for our last class because I was too busy finishing my research paper on James Joyce.  I got a basic summary from a classmate, so I know how the book ends and I knew the major climax in the story... but for some reason, I really felt the need to keep reading.  It might be because it came after some very painful  Brit novels -- after not reading Tarr and becoming disgusted with Joyce, it was much easier to read -- but the book is written so well and so subtly that I couldn't put it down.

Once I finish the book, I might watch the movie.  Who knows?  I still haven't seen The Hunger Games, but I made Anthony promise to see it with me this weekend.  I'll probably put off watching the movie like I do everything else, but in 2 months, I'll let you guys know.

ps - I'm also halfway through A Doll's House.  My summer class is all drama, so I'm going to be reading the Greek classics up through modernism.  And he gives reading quizzes, so I won't be skipping any :)