I spent a great deal of time this week reading course catalog descriptions of classes and considering degree plans and mapping out what the next year of my life will look like (mostly, I tried to figure out how long I can put off taking senior level British Lit classes). And as I sat in my Ancient World Lit class today, my professor discussed the reasons why he chose the books he did for the class, why they’re significant to him, and why he reads books in general, I reflected on why I’ve chosen to spend my time as an English major, writing, and reading, and studying literature as opposed to all of the other options the university provides. And the conclusion I came to was one full of uncertainty. I realize I’m just now starting to discover what the point of any of this is. It’s not so much about obtaining a degree that is essential for a career that creates a meaningful life for me in the future, but that the process now is valuable and essential. So I’ve decided to start a series I hope to continue as a means to discover something valuable about the way I choose to spend my time. I was going to title this series “Why I Study Literature,” but I’ve reconsidered and chosen a title I believe is more apt.
Why do I write? Why are these words valuable to me? Why are you spending this moment of your limited time reading my words? Why do you read books? Why do you read words?
Why I Love Words
“The pleasantest of all diversions is to sit alone under a lamp, a book spread out before you, and to make friends with people of a distant past you have never known”