Progymnasmata

We just finished final presentations in my classes. I teach -- community college, English & Philosophy (picked up Masters Degree #2 in Philosophy a couple years ago; this enables me to teach the love of wisdom to American CC students). I think of Sara's presentation of whether American Literature matters: it was expertly organized and focused on emotional intelligence. Sure, she picked up on a thread that I was communicatin' to them: that one of literature's practical uses is to train us emotionally. I've never bought the whole "objective reading" line -- it's fine and harmless. But I'm not after harmless.

Anyway, Sara addressed Fanny Fern's novel Ruth Hall. It's about a 19th-century woman whom Fortune robs her of traditional happiness. She then has to rise, Ben Franklin like, to be a successful business woman despite of her family, not because of it. Anyway, Sara loved that book -- she's from a successful family. She was planning to be a high school teacher. But now she's going to take over the family business. I never could tell if she made that decision out of a feeling of obligation or out of a genuine desire. But it hardly matters. Ruth Hall spoke to her directly, echoed the thoughts she had about herself.

The best reading experiences are like that -- they're a sort of spiritual or emotional mirror. I mean, we live in a age of the image, of the selfie which gives us constant reference to our physical bodies. It's difficult to take a spiritual selfie, but maybe we can read one.