One, well, Two Misconceptions Which can Cost you a Semester of Work

I have many things to to blog about which haven't time at the moment. As it is, I'm just spending a few minutes blogging before I buckle down to a rather large load of homework. So before Socrates starts calling me, I thought I'd blog about a misconception my fellow collegians have which is truly pitiful.

Picture this: Understanding the Bible has just let out on a Wednesday afternoon and two friends, whom we shall call Michael and Jazmine, are walking behind me on the way back to mine and Jazmine's dorm. We three are in two classes, and so see each other every school day; we also have a very good idea of how much homework the others have done and, more often, what they still need to do. Now, I had learned yesterday that they both are several books behind in the Iliad - not such a good idea when there are reading quizzes. And as we're walking, I here them saying, "Yeah, let's turn on [a Disney film] and then go to dinner."

"Wait, what?" I think.

I know for a fact they both have work to do, and not just new homework - back work. Why, then, would they spend an hour and a half watching a film they've both seen many times?

At first, the answer appears easy. But it wasn't that these two just blow school off and don't care that they're here. I know they both worry about keeping up scholarships. And as for Michael, I think he does genuinely care about his work. He's really involved in class and is very faithful in making to class.

So why, then?

Well, the reason is a simple twofold misconception that most of my peers have - one which they have already paid for or they will soon pay for. They have been led to believe that they must divide their time between 1) schoolwork, 2) socialization, and 3) body needs (food and sleep, rest if sick). But there are two problems with this list.

The first is a misunderstanding of socialization. I could write for a while on this subject, but I will content myself with saying that socialization does not parties and events. Socialization occurs whenever you are in contact with other human beings. Thus, class time and dinner time ought to be included in the "socialization" aspect of college, though they do not exhaust it.

The other, deeper, part of the misconception is that there are not merely three categories - there are four. Time must be spread between body needs, socialization, class time, and homework. It is the lumping together of classes and homework into "schoolwork" which I think harms so many of my peers. After spending three hours in class and two hours on homework, they think, "I've just spent five hours of my time on schoolwork." The result: poorly written papers done the night before they're due and reading which doesn't happen.

So, if you're a student, or even a parent preparing a child for college, do not, not, NOT lump classes and homework together in your mind. The two must be thought about separately (at least, when thinking about time management). Don't let that bad thinking habit ruin your first semester at college.

And now back to my own homework. :-)

On the Result of a Classical Education

In jeans a boy stood in the courtyard,

His brow crossed with heroic lines,

His head a whirl with words -

And the pages of the book were real

While Arthur’s voice was calling him

In echoes deafening,

“Flee not, my knight, stay put -

Fulfill thy sacred quest.”

And in Calormen’s hostile sands

Lay rakes for daily gardening,

And mother’s cries were lost

In the ring of running hooves.

‘Twas Sam’s voice dragged him back

To the joy of hoeing weeds,

And cried that folks in stories

Never gave up on quests.

A thing of beauty in debtor’s prison,

A lady, dancing mannerly,

A murderous sinner and an icon -

What Odysseys were these!

Set on a wall the remnants

Of a life not lost but treasured,

But voices cried aloud to come,

To share the fun and glamour.

What harm, to prove, to share?

But icons shook their heads to warn,

And Gandalf pleaded nay

And Arthur’s voice was calling him,

“Flee not, my knight, stay put -

Fulfill thy sacred quest.”

Harry Potter's first internal conflict

This review will be, I grant you, rather short as I do not have a particularly large amount of things to say about the Prisoner of Azkaban. Like the first two books, it was imaginative to the tee and I think, on the whole, it was slightly better writing quality than the previous novels. The heartbreaks were just as heartbreaking, the triumphs just as triumphant. On a tangential note, I have discovered that Quidditch is probably my second favorite sport (sorry, baseball still comes first).

Basically the only thing I wanted to make note of is that the Prisoner of Azkaban is the first novel in which Harry's absolute hero status is shaken. In the first Quidditch match, he doesn't catch the Snitch after falling from his broomstick (through no fault of his own, I must add). It's the first game he has ever lost. In addition, he finds himself struggling with something he has never really felt before: hate. His rivalry with Draco pales in comparison to his absolute hatred of Sirius Black, a hatred so great he would be willing to kill. And though Harry rises to the occasion and doesn't kill Black in the end, the reader is now forced to consider a question. Harry has so far resisted the evil Lord Voldemort's attempts to cause problems in the world, but can he resist blackness in his own soul that will play into Voldemort's hands?

A Picture

Today, I was sitting with my friends at a table during the fellowship hour. We were talking, laughing, and eating; then my friend Caroline leaned over and picked up a very young child who could only speak in monosyllabic nouns. In five minutes, we were all enraptured at her "pictures", doodled lines on Post-It notes. Jared, who had just received a particularly scrambled line, was inquiring what the various symbols were.

"What's this one"

"*gargle* Ummm, tree."

"Oh, a tree, huh? How about this one?"

"Rock."

"I see." He got himself a Post-It note and drew a picture for our new little friend of a house in a field with a tree, cloud, and the sun. "Here, now you've made one for me and I've made one for you, see?"

Her face broke into an enormous smile as she started stammering out the names of the various objects, clearly impressed at her own abilities.

And I thought, thank God for children. They are so precious and innocent, and yet so intelligent and insightful that I find myself in constant awe of their power. A power so great it can captivate the minds of seven college students, who have the cares of homework, relationships, and jobs on their minds. Who can think about Plato's Meno, Tacitus's Histories, or the Enuma Elish when a little miracle from heaven is sitting two feet away, giggling? It was enough for us to see her sweet face, which had no stain of worry or pain upon it. I cannot describe how important an experience like this is to me. Besides my family I have found that what I miss most are little babies, toddlers, children - the ones who depend on us so much yet also make our burdens easier. And at college, you're lucky to ever see anyone younger than 15 years old. You live in a world so dominated by age and pressure, that the heaviness of it all can become painful.

Oh, I thank God for my church!

Rowling's Chamber of Secrets (Spoilers ahead - yes, I mean it)

This, faithful reader, is the story of a pleasant deception.

Last weekend, I read J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Up until the very end, I was skeptical and ready to be scathing if need be, for reasons which I hope will soon become clear. But I'll say right here, I think I jumped to my conclusion a little too soon. To paraphrase Plato, Rowling fooled me with a pleasant foolery.

My first impression of the book was actually one of excitement. The beginning chapters were promising; they had a compelling emotional realism and forceful unity with the previous book that was beyond my expectations. Our first images of Harry are of his intense longings for companionship. His friends seem to have abandoned him, and he is stuck with the despicable Dursleys. In addition, he is warned off from going back to Hogwarts by a mysterious house elf. But as Harry's loneliness gets most despairing, with the suddenness of the rising sun, Ron Weasley and his twin brothers Fred and George fly over in their enchanted car and rescue Harry. I confess that as a college student, away from home, I think I found Harry's overwhelmed joy at the Weasleys' arrival and his appreciation of the very real Weasley home, which had all the trademarks of a well-lived in house, most comforting and heart-warming.

But almost immediately afterward, at about the middle of chapter three, my heart completely sank and my fists went up, prepared to batter Rowling's work to pulp. Having arrived at the Weasley homestead, Harry and his readers discover that young Ginny Weasley can barely be in the same room with Harry, let alone talk to him. Her crush becomes more and more painfully obvious, and as the knowledge of it hit me, I set my jaw.

Good grief, I thought, this is a children's novel; why in the world did Rowling have to fall into that typical "time for the youngsters to fall in love because, well, because that's just normal" pattern followed by just about every book on the young adult fiction library shelves. Pardon the tirade, but I simply don't believe in love at young age - it's cheesy and nauseating. Not only that, but it encourages children in need of guidance to commit such behavior. And so, as I hold such moderate views, I was ready to beat the novel to shreds as corny and anything but special.

As the novel progressed, I found myself in a quandary. The rest of the novel was so enjoyable; if it hadn't been for that one thorn in my side, I would have been completely at home and engrossed. The world of the wizards was more enchanting than ever and the mystery which forms the plot was far more satisfying to me than that in the former. Someone has opened the Chamber of Secrets, from whence a mysterious creature comes into the school and begins petrifying students. In addition, Rowling's humor was funnier than ever before. In one particular scene Ron's mother send him "a Howler", a letter which delivers a yelled message verbatim. In short, had it not been for Ginny's foolishness, I would have enjoyed the whole book immensely.

And then in the next to last chapter (I don't know why, but the last or next to last chapter in Rowling's novels always seems to be the one that shocks and impresses me most) Rowling sprung one of her secrets on me. The final confrontation is between Harry Potter and a memory of Lord Voldemort, back when he was called Tom Riddle, a memory which has come from out of his old diary. On the floor between them is Ginny Weasley, whose life is slowly but surely slipping over into Tom Riddle, making him more and more alive the closer she comes to death. At first, Harry believes he can trust Riddle but almost immediately he grows suspicious. He asks, "How did Ginny get like this?" And Riddle's response, as written by Rowling, knocked me off my feet.

"Well, that's an interesting question," said Riddle pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to a stranger...The diary," said Riddle. "My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me her pitiful worries and woes - how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, how" - Riddle's eyes glinted - "how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her"

"It's very boring, having to listen to the silly troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom...I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in...It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket.....So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted...I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul into her"

Riddle reveals that Ginny has been writing into the diary and that he responded with exactly what she wanted to hear when she was lonely and complaining. And soon, Ginny found herself possessed by the evil soul of Lord Voldemort himself which had slipped over to her, completely unseen. Now, I confess that passage was far deeper than I would have expected from Rowling. In a few pages, Rowling (perhaps unintentionally) completely condemns the idea of a little girl meddling in such an adult matter as eros. She shows that such behavior from a little kid only opens up their soul to evil, and doesn't prepare them for future good things. Ginny's foolish dabbling in adult affairs, and her selfish concern with her own small cares, makes her a prime target for lurking evil. Never before had I read anything remotely like this before in modern young adult fiction. The depth there, though not Dostoevsky, was greater than I had expected.

In a brief conclusion, I'll just say that The Chamber of Secrets had a far greater unity as a novel and was, I felt, much better planned and written. It still wasn't Lewis or Tolkien, but it is built better than the last, I'd say. Of course, all of my previous points remain true; for example, I wouldn't give Harry Potter to a poor reader. But on the whole, I feel like Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets was better than the first novel.

Now, I have begun the third novel and it appears young Ginny still fancies Harry, so the reproach on this attitude may have been accidental on Rowling's part. But I'm inclined to think not; at this point, I think I'll trust Rowling to pull another little bit of magic out of her sleeve.

Why I'm Here

My first quizzes are rounding the corner, bringing a host of fears, fears of failure and shame and ineptitude. Along with them ride the other concerns or to quote Catullus, tristis curas, harsh cares. Exams, academic pressure, and late nights to come. I am currently a collegian at the Marshalsea, living in a so-called Snuggery. As much as I like to think of myself as an ancient prophet or hero-king, I have to admit, my cry is far too often, "Behold, here am I. Why, Lord?"

All such trying conditions do, I believe, beg the question. Why go so far away from home, to live off sometimes-decent food and homework. Why endure it all? I've heard many answers. It's for your future career. It's so you grow more independent as a person. It's because everyone needs higher education. And though each of those is true, they can be pretty unconvincing to a tired soul.

But what is most curious, most puzzling to me is that despite the aches I do feel, I'm happy. Every time I am in a class, my heart aches, but not with pain or sorrow. Tears well into my eyes. Why, I asked the Lord? What is it about this place that seems so wrong, and yet so right? And the Lord answered me with a word from Lewis.

Joy.

That feeling in the classes I take is joy. An inexpressible fulfillment and simultaneous desire, something that pulls you, literally, to the edge of your seat. It's impossible to describe; I can only say its effect on me, not what it really is. It makes my heart light, as if I'm being pulled up to God. I personally believe it's not an "as if". I think that every experience of Joy really is pulling me closer to God, contributing to my theosis.

And let me tell you, Joy is worth all the exams and heartaches this school can dish out.

My first adventure with Harry

I can remember when the Harry Potter debate first entered my consciousness. Children gave each other dirty looks, parents worried, and pastors mentioned it in sermons. The fans were obsessed, the adversaries were militant. So far as I could tell, it was a story about a boy wizard, somebody called Voldemort, and perhaps something about a snake. But, being as I was a devoted queen of Narnia and member of the Fellowship of the Ring, I soon blocked out most of the arguments and fan discussions. Honestly, I thought, what's the big deal?

Well, this past year, a certain fan infiltrated my own imagination, where I waited with Anne Eliot and died with Sydney Carton. Only this fan was different. Unlike the others, who were overcome by their emotions for the book, he loved it with good reason. Here was a someone who could best me at Dickens, Dostoevsky, Austen, and Keats, and who could throw in an in-depth discussion of Harry, Hermione, and Ron to boot. So intrigued was I, that I decided to give the books a chance and try to discern their real place on the spectrum of literature. Here are my observations.

I have to admit, my original question remains the same: what exactly IS the big deal? Don't get me wrong, there are several things I found enjoyable and promising, and if the rest of the series is as good as this one then Rowling will probably be in my list of top five current children's writers. But I do wish everyone would quit the hype. First and foremost to keep in mind about Harry Potter is that it is a children's novel. Thus, it ought not to take the place of adult literature in the minds of readers. In fact, this is my biggest gripe with the series, and I'm fair enough to see that it isn't Rowling's fault. Far too many people I have met this past week ask me first if I have read Harry Potter. "What?" I think, "None of the Greats matter to you? The highest you can soar is a modern children's novel?"

I think the greatest danger of Harry Potter is how it is used. People treat it as a substitute to the Great Books, not as a good book whose place is definitely beneath Tolkien and Wodehouse. Thus, I would never give Harry Potter to someone who does not like reading, or has a disease similar to it. Because Harry Potter does have many strengths, that person would far too easily set everything else aside and give the greatest literary prize to one of the seven novels. But if the person involved is a strong reader, who has a proper appreciation for the hierarchy of art, I see great benefit from reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.

This benefit will not really come from the quality of the prose. Rowling's writing isn't bad, it's just not the inspirational sort which makes you want to write something immediately because words are running, or more appropriately, flying about in your brain. Her prose is good, just not the level of Lewis's The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. This does not mean we ought never to read the book; it simply means that Rowling's novel can be read in a day or less during a holiday, where a similar section of Tolkien would probably require far more time to digest.

But as to the story itself, I think Rowling can claim to be one of the best imaginative writers of our day. Rowling, whose impressive education includes a BA in Classics and French, has the sort of imagination only a well-trained mind can achieve. Unlike most other modern writers, whose works have the flavor of a very unconvincing plagiarized paper, Rowling does not try to steal the imagination of Lewis and Tolkien, or the myths that they communed with; rather, she participates in it, writing very much in community with her great predecessors. When you read most modern "imaginative" fiction, everything from mythical characters and to the so called "redeeming themes" seems false and ungenuine. In other words, because they do not really believe in those things in their own imaginations, their works remain unconvincing in the well-trained imagination.

But something that struck me when reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone was how real everything seemed. From Dumbledore to Hagrid, the centaurs to the unicorns, the game of Quidditch to the mirror of Erised, everything in Rowling's novel was ingeniously convincing. When reading it I found that, despite the rather mediocre writing, the characters and world that Rowling was, not creating, but sharing, was a joy. It is here that Rowling gets closest to the two greatest fantasy writers, Lewis and Tolkien. We love Dumbledore for much the same reason we love Aslan, we cheer for Harry much like we cheer for Frodo: because the author does. We believe that Harry must win because Rowling herself believes in her imagination that good will triumph over evil. With her the same ideas and themes are not cliche; they are convincingly classic. A truly imaginative mind, which sees another aspect of the same fantastical ideas, is irresistible to everyone, both the soul starving for myth and soul who has suckled on the rage of Achilles and the magic of Merlin from infancy.

And so, I shall try to briefly name some themes and ideas which I find promising in Rowling's novel, ones which I hope she continues to develop. Though it was a bit hidden, I definitely felt that Rowling claimed that a knowledge of nature goes hand in hand with a knowledge of supernature. Up until Harry discovers he is a wizard, the world around him is sterile, dead, and thoroughly modern. But once he discovers the world to which he belongs, suddenly descriptions of rolling mountains, rich forests, and very dangerous creatures become available to us. The world "wild" is used many times in admiring terms. These, along with some other smaller things, have led me to believe that one of the claims of Harry Potter is that the two, nature and supernature, somehow belong together. It is no surprise, therefore, that Hogwarts, a place where students become more and more in touch with the supernatural, is in the midst of incredible natural beauty. And, conversely, that Uncle Vernon, who is completely out of touch with nature, has no knowledge or comprehension of the supernatural world around him. This I find a fascinating point to slip in, and I look for more of it with eagerness.

My next observation hinges on my previous example, that of Harry finding out about the world of wizards and magic. Rowling deals with this in a very mature and, I would almost say, sacramental way. The world of the wizards, where magical things happen and where everything ordinary is somehow elevated to a new level of importance, is there all the time. Yet though it would not be to hard to discover it, the Muggles (ordinary humans) block out any trace of it. This idea that there is a world right outside your door which you have only to open your eyes to see is very biblical, true, and refreshing to find in modern literature. Rowling walks the fine line between separated worlds and no difference between the worlds at all quite nicely.

I could probably go on with some more promising/good themes, but I have rambled on long enough. I must, however, take a moment to say that Rowling's characterization is quite good. The three main characters, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, were all unique and realistic. I give that of Hermione honorable mention, since Rowling manages to portray an intelligent girl who cares about her studies, and yet who can be a good friend and fun companion - no simple task in today's climate.

And so, on a parting note, I give something Dumbledore tells Harry at the end which particularly touched me. This is for you, mom:

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort can't understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign...to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give some protection forever. It is in your very skin."