academics
I have been thinking lately that I might not want to major in English after all. I love reading books to the point of obsession - but I strongly dislike analyzing them. Reading literary criticism just annoys me 95% of the time - it makes me just picture the author either rolling his eyes or snickering at the far-fetched ideas and high-flown language of the critics.
I thought the obvious choice for me was English, because I read and write. But maybe there is a larger gap that I thought between the art of reading and writing and the study of reading and writing. I prefer art to study in every area. It seems like, often, there is an enormous gap between the art of the fiction writer and the careful analytical study of those reading his books in an English class. How many authors of the past would howl with laughter at the thought of their books being studied in classrooms?
Now I'm thinking of what else I could major in, and the thought is freeing. I was always leaning toward a minor or a second major in History, because when the subject of history is hit right I am completely captivated by details of the past and stories about how things used to be. Maybe, journalism, if I go to a college that offers it? I still don't know where I'm going to college.
If I weren't worried about getting a job that I love after college, I might major in philosophy, or more, theology. But there's not much to do with that other than go to seminary, I suppose. And that is something I am most indisposed to do.
I have a love-hate relationship with school, study, and academic things in general, I think. I like to learn. I don't like to learn through analysis, critique, and study. I like to learn through living. With English classes - I love to read. But when it comes time to critique a work of fiction and analyze it into pieces, I feel like the book must hurt from being torn apart so. The analysis and criticism seem to me so far from the dreams, the inspirations, the art behind the writing.
There are no fairies allowed in academia. That is my problem.
I thought the obvious choice for me was English, because I read and write. But maybe there is a larger gap that I thought between the art of reading and writing and the study of reading and writing. I prefer art to study in every area. It seems like, often, there is an enormous gap between the art of the fiction writer and the careful analytical study of those reading his books in an English class. How many authors of the past would howl with laughter at the thought of their books being studied in classrooms?
Now I'm thinking of what else I could major in, and the thought is freeing. I was always leaning toward a minor or a second major in History, because when the subject of history is hit right I am completely captivated by details of the past and stories about how things used to be. Maybe, journalism, if I go to a college that offers it? I still don't know where I'm going to college.
If I weren't worried about getting a job that I love after college, I might major in philosophy, or more, theology. But there's not much to do with that other than go to seminary, I suppose. And that is something I am most indisposed to do.
I have a love-hate relationship with school, study, and academic things in general, I think. I like to learn. I don't like to learn through analysis, critique, and study. I like to learn through living. With English classes - I love to read. But when it comes time to critique a work of fiction and analyze it into pieces, I feel like the book must hurt from being torn apart so. The analysis and criticism seem to me so far from the dreams, the inspirations, the art behind the writing.
There are no fairies allowed in academia. That is my problem.
posted by Laura at 4:04 PM
1 Comments:
Yay! History is great fun, especially the obscure facts. I put a bunch of obscure facts in my college admissions essay and found it very amusing. ^-^ Thank you for your words of wisdom O gracious king.
Does the King know which college he is going to?
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