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Professor Birdseye arrived and passed out the syllabus. I tuned out the drone around me and read it over. We would read a collection of Plath’s poems, the novel The Bell Jar, and a biography. A book of short stories and journal entries titled Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams was optional. The title, Johnny Panic, intrigued me. I had read The Bell Jar years ago. Afterwards, I purchased a book of Plath’s poetry, but surprised to find so many nature poems I soon lost interest and tossed it on the bookshelf.
Professor Birdseye addressed the class. "How many of you have read anything by Plath?" I raised my hand along with most of the class. "What do you know about Plath?" she queried? "She killed herself." "She was insane." "She wrote dark poetry." "They gave her shock therapy." Holden and Esther find it increasingly difficult to communicate with their peers. At the height of his isolation, Holden wishes to become a deaf-mute so that he won’t have to have any "useless conversations with anybody." I sighed and returned to reading the syllabus. An academic loner, didn’t want to hear some phony teenage girl analyze Plath. "Her poems, they are like so dark and stuff. Like she writes about death and dying and like it makes me so sad. You know?" |
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| Only the Professor’s lecture warranted my rapt attention. I tuned back in when she resumed control of the class. "You will spend the semester writing a paper comparing Plath’s poetry or fiction to the work of another author. You will have to incorporate some aspect of Plath’s life and it’s impact on her writing. For example, relate the death of her father or her experience in New York as a teenager to specific poems or particular scenes in the novel. Anyone who needs help developing their topic can visit me during office hours." Immediately, I jotted ideas for my paper in the margins of my syllabus: Catcher In the Rye, Bright Lights, Big City, Postcards From The Edge. Nervous breakdowns, mental illness, shock therapy, anomie, odyssey - NYC. Professor Birdseye was a respected member of the Women’s Studies Department. She was a passionate and compelling speaker whose enthusiasm moved all but the most cynical student. After giving us some biographical background on Plath, she dismissed class. I walked over to the university bookstore. The temperature had dropped while I was in class and it was considerably cooler than it had been two hours ago. I pulled a Comic Relief sweatshirt out of my backpack and put it on. The bookstore was crowded when I arrived. Pushing my way through the confused mass of bodies to the English Section, I passed over the used books and selected new ones instead. There was something magical about cracking open a brand new book for the first time. Besides, someone had already highlighted the used books and I couldn’t trust someone else’s highlighting. |
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