So I’m not enjoying Literary Theory. Not at all. Not even a little. My creative writing class is FANTASTIC AND WONDERFUL, and Literary Theory makes me want to gauge my eyes out with a hot poker. I want to throw Norton’s Anthology of Theory and Criticism in the back yard and let Major have his way with it.
How many times I read and re-read Edmund Burke’s “A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful,” I cannot count. You didn’t even read that whole sentence, did you! You glazed over it. I know you did.
The only solace I find in Literary Theory is that we are required to outline our readings instead of summarizing them through long-winded drivel. We have to write application papers, but those are still better than summaries.
This is the last class I’m required to take for graduate school, which means the rest are at my discretion. THANK THE SWEET LORD. I will fill the remaining hours with exciting courses like Short Story, Genre Writing, and Studies in Fiction.
Ah, Fiction. I ♥ you. Let’s be best friends.