I've had the recent opportunity to try my hand at job searching again, this time looking for some sort of teaching gig. In this application for the Institute of Reading Development, I was asked to answer a few questions as a writing sample. I won't provide the questions because they should be evident from the answers, and besides, I felt it was time to sort of update my attitude towards my passion in a renewing-of-vows sort of thing.
Each time I revisit Lolita, I am seduced by the details of Nabokov's craft, and the way in which he allows his novel to take on a life of its own. It is one of the seminal works in which the definition of love--particularly the destructive and volatile nature of an artist's love is explored to quite tragic and sublime results. The grim humor behind pain and pining, and the casual cruelty of youth are treated with such artistry and careful construction that it both softens the blows and digs the knife deeper. I am greatly inspired by the unflinching bravery of Nabokov's surrender and devotion to his characters, to the story, and to the craft.
Additionally, I find myself frequently becoming entwined in J.D. Salinger's Glass family stories. It is a world of laden dialogue and forged connections which frequently miss intended targets, and create a heritage of secrets, style, and pride. The way in which the characters attempt to maintain their own illusions and dignity through obsessive memories of the past creates a tunneling effect between past and present. Ideas of consciousness, its deceptive games and the increasingly limitless methods of softening reality are still relevant seventy years later. The characters search ceaselessly for a balm which may not exist at all, least of all in the material world. In fact the balm, as Salinger seems to have found, may be literature itself.
Increasingly, and as I develop my own voice, I am drawn to those writers who exhibit the most freedom and playfulness in their writing. Tom Robbins is as colorful a character as the ones he creates, and I am given to frequent laughter at his sneaky cleverness and circus ringleader style of narration. I gladly suspend disbelief due to his unflinching authority and seductive prose. Reading should involve the joy of connection, whether between author and reader, author and character, or reader and character. And as laughter is essential to the sheer pleasure of interacting with literature, Robbins' writing is an abiding favorite of mine.
My plans for the next year include taking the GRE's and applying for a Masters program in English Education. I have been fortunate enough to have great English teachers and professors who have inspired me to develop a natural talent and personal passion into a rich career. Specifically, I developed a strong interest in the crossover of philosophy and literature in my high school AP English class. My teacher brought to the works of Sartre and Camus the greater context and influence of thinkers such as Friedrich Nietzsche, Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud to fuel our basis for comparison. The idea of the character as mortal plaything, independent of spirit but submissive to the will of the author posed questions beyond the sphere of my own experience. I became greatly interested in different ways of thought as I matured and encountered the seemingly limitless number of options. But no matter where the dark realms the implications of fate or free will took me, words could turn that terror into a thing of beauty.
I am frequently moved to think of those younger generations struggling through the same or worse series of average tragedies as I have, and hope to offer them possibilities for refuge. Literature may not be the ultimate balm for all of human suffering, may in fact be the "hot fudge sundae" Kurt Vonnegut spoke of when scoffing at the ire with which some people react to a novel. But without it, we would be deprived of a great source of pleasure, empathy and self discovery.
Teaching is a two-way process by which both parties, instructor and pupil come to a higher perception of experience. The pleasure of a good story is universal, and the positivity formed by the critical deconstruction of prose increases sophistication of expression by which people can come to a better understanding of one another. In this age of increasing technological advances, we have encountered a splintering of community, with alienating results. I see myself as a champion of sincere human encounter, and I see teaching as a method by which to help myself and others regain a sense of history and belonging.
