The Legacy of Success

I am taking an honors class this semester (my first) at UNM called the Legacy of Success. The reading list for that class is the longest of all my classes, but I have already delved into its richness and realized that I want to be able to talk about it. So: "Litertwitter:" for all the literature-related things I'll want to share, take note of, or mull over as I read and do assignments this semester. It's one way to spread good quotes and excerpts so even those who have not read a work may benefit from a small piece of it and possibly thus become encouraged to read it themselves.

My reflection on my enjoyment and exasperation with literature and learning:

I know and understand so little of the world and my life in it. I am befuddled by the unresolved duality of learning: that through study -especially study of literature- one may benefit from the vicarious experience of another and thereby aim to attempt a level of improvement from the mistakes already made and consequences already exacted; and yet, that though one may study for a lifetime, even the most avid and convicted readers are still in want of a clear way to pull together the combined wisdom of every "lesson learned;" we lack a trustworthy map by which knowledge could avoid the traps where so many have fallen, while still retaining full sincerity and compassion; we lack a hope that learning would reward its true seekers with a sure way to succeed where others have failed, to "succeed," in short, at life. (I believe the topic of success will prove to be highly involving and relevant to me this semester).

One of the lessons presented in Samuel Johnson's The History of Rasselas, Prince of Abbisinia, is that "because of the perennial conflict between hope and reality, man is inclined to aggravate his own wretchedness. (Introduction by J.P.H. pg. xviii)" This a condition to which I have often found myself prone, because my basic hope would be for learning to result in advancement of some kind. I feel rather crushed and even the slightest bit betrayed when reality is in conflict with that hope, sometimes even the reality presented by the literature itself! For example, in the introduction of Rasselas again: "Moreover, it is during this third section or movement that they" [the characters] "witness the most frightening spectacle of the obsessive tendencies of man's seemingly infinite mind. The mad astronomer has obviously given himself 'something to pursue;' but in an important sense he too has neglected to live."

In other words, an obsession with learning about how best to live may inhibit one from stepping out of the realm of ideals (however pure or impure they may be!) into the tainted and risk-filled imperfection of actually living.

this is my conundrum.

And so I hope to have learned from Shelly's Frankenstein -both the book and the character himself- and Johnson's mad astronomer in Rasselas: to at least attempt to avoid the insanity of studying in isolation by #1: attending the school classes where I'm actually required to read and discuss these books, and #2: try to escape the maddening confinement of my own head by making both of them (my madness and my head) public on this blog. I know the title Litertwitter is rather lame, not to mention Mr. Macindoo would probably KILL me for all the copyright laws it's probably breaking, but one of my perceived uses of twitter was already this: a medium by which ideas may be spread. I might as well do so in a more realistic amount of space (i.e., NOT 140 characters). And since my focus and initiator of "conversation" is literature, it is lame but not entirely uncalled for.

So what are my ground rules, my goal? To be clear? Concise? Hopefully an honest combination of the two... which, depending on how unclear and in-concise this first entry has been, may or may not always be entirely possible (though the honest part is honestly my forte). And second ground rule (the first being more of a goal, anyway): PLEASE GET INVOLVED- COMMENT, ADD YOUR OWN QUOTES, IDEAS, INTERPRETATIONS! The less this feels isolated, perhaps the less I will tend towards obsession or madness like our good friend Dr.Frankenstein...which I hope none of us are too eager to see happen.

;)

thanks!