The Power of a Well-Turned Phrase

This week, my students and I read Edward Hoagland’s essay “The Courage of Turtles.“. I love Hoagland’s writing (if not turtles, in particular) because it is so descriptive. My students seemed to appreciate for that reason, too.

What divided my classes a bit about the essay was the end. Hoagland spends a few hundred words describing turtles – the various kinds, the ones he owns, where he finds them, how they can die easily in captivity – basically, the first section of the essay is an ode de la turtle. But at the end of the piece, it takes a turn (at most good essays do) and becomes much darker. Hoagland tells us about how he bought a turtle in Manhattan, thinking it would make a good pet, only to discover it was a Diamondback that preferred brackish water, not fresh water. At home, the turtle is “morose” and “spent his days thumping interminably against the baseboards.” Out of exasperation, Hoagland decides to carry the turtle to the Hudson and set it free. After he tosses the turtle into the water, he realizes the animals is “afraid” and realizes “that I must have done the wrong thing.” The turtle couldn’t survive in the rough water.

The final line of the essay is what we debated in class – “But since, short of diving in after him, there was nothing I could do, I walked away.” Some of my students thought Hoagland cruel to walk away; some thought he had no real choice in the matter. My interpretation rests on one phrase in that line – “short of diving in after him.” These six words tell me that Hoagland knows he had a choice, albeit a dangerous one, and that he feels bad about himself for making the choice he did. This phrase allows me to feel sympathy for the writer while still grieving the turtle. And since the entire essay is about Hoagland’s feelings for these animals, I find this last line to be quite fitting and masterful.

Hoagland’s last line shows, I think, the power of one phrase. Think how different that line would be if he just said, “There was nothing I could do; I walked away.” That’s the line of a heartless fellow.

Sometimes a simply set of words – in an essay (and in life) – can make a world of difference in how the people around us experience our stories. Our honest, aware sentiments wrought well in words can alter a perception monumentally.

Unless like one student, your love for turtles overwhelms all else, and well, then, what’s a writer to do. :)

Diamondback Terrapin – Diamondback Terrapin

Truth and Beauty: A Friendship by Ann Patchett – A Book Review

When I got my new set of classes this semester, I was asked to take on a literature class, and while I love literature, it’s been a while since I taught it. I thought I was up to the challenge and signed on. I’m so glad I did because this particular school allows professors to use smaller works – novels, short story collections, individual plays or poetry works – to teach rather than the standard “ginormous” anthologies many schools use. So I chose five books – How to Read Poetry Like a Professor by Thomas Foster, American Ground by William Langewiesche, The Book of Luminous Things edited by Czeslaw Milosz, Flash Fiction Forward by James Thomas & Robert Shapard, and Truth and Beauty by Ann Patchett. I want a course that uses creative nonfiction as an equal genre to poetry and fiction, and I hope this set of texts bears that out.

The first book we’ll be reading is Patchett’s, and I had never read the book (the curse of a short hiring timeline is sometimes having to pick texts unread), so I started right in with the reading. Then, I couldn’t stop. This memoir is perhaps the most beautiful, tragic, simple, and gorgeous memoir I’ve ever read.

The book tells the story of the friendship between Patchett and Lucy Grealy, author of The Autobiography of a Face. Patchett describes their friendship of most than twenty years and takes herself (with us in two) through the pain and edged beauty of their love for one another. Patchett is able to convey their friendship honestly without “sweetening up” or demonizing Lucy or herself. As readers, we are able to see each woman as complex, flawed, and sincere in their love for one another.

The fact that the women are both writers gave this story another layer of power and import for me, and the book informed my idea of writerly friendships, the nature of love, and the power of relationship in general. I am profoundly changed by this book in the way that great writing shifts things subtly but substantially in our souls. I only wish I could read it again for the first time.

Truth and Beauty by Ann PatchettTruth and Beauty by Ann Patchett

Who Is Listening?

When we talk to people, we automatically adjust our word choice, tone of voice, and length of sentences to match the age, knowledge, and relationship we have with our listeners. In English teacher terms, we are “aware of our audience.”

Sometimes, though, when we write, we forget that a person is on the other end of that communication. This is especially true of online communication, like email, but it’s often true in more traditional forms of writing like business reports and memos. We have a standard format, and we use it no matter to whom or for what we are writing.

Maybe we do this because of the way we’re taught to write in schools, where the teacher is our only reader, and so we write a generic format that we’ve been taught to adopt. Hopefully, as teachers, we are moving away from these audience-less forms of writing and asking our students to engage more formally with audience analysis.

There are some great ways for us to think about writing for particular people or groups. We can look at advertisements and think about how those ads target a specific audience – how does an Old Navy ad differ from one for Folgers, for example? We can look at letters to the editor or email campaigns and see how the writers made choices for their particular constituencies. We can just think about our own communication choices – what would you say to your “BFF” that you wouldn’t say to your grandparents?

If we can be more aware of our audiences, we will be more compassionate, informed, and effective communicators.

Old Navy ad

Reading in the Gaps

Last night, I was at an orientation for my new teaching job. As usual, I was early, so I got my agenda and (dreaded) nametag, settled into a chair, and started to read. I have slipped in this habit of reading in the gaps of time in my day, but it’s a pattern I’d like to readopt.

In high school, I’d read between class, devouring a few pages of Frankenstein before English started or making my way through a novel before Calculus. I used books as a way to fill the spaces between things, and I not only read a lot of books this way, but this pattern also helped keep me out of trouble. I wasn’t a kid prone to trouble – goodie-two-shoes really fit me – but I am a woman prone to worry and, honestly, nosiness. I get involved in the problems of others by overhearing conversations, or I get wrapped up in my own concerns in unhealthy, unintentional ways. Reading keeps me focused on something meaningful.

I had this lesson yesterday as I waited for a doctor’s appointment. It had been almost an hour, and I was getting frustrated. I did have a book (Ann Patchett’s Truth and Beauty) with me, and that helped me stay busy. As my frustration started to build, I noticed that a copy of the Desiderata was hanging on the wall above the examination table. It has been years since I read that poem, so I stood up and gave it a look. These lines jumped out to me –

But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Talk about a well-placed poster. I thought about the words, took comfort, and went back to my book. A little grace extended, again, through reading.

So today, as I teach my first classes of the semester, I will carry my book close by as a way to keep me busy while I wait for class to start, as a way to fill my time between classes, as a way to keep perspective in my day.

Reading in Doctor's Office – by Mark Kennedy

Back to School Jitters

Today, I officially start “back to school,” and while this is absolutely my favorite time of year, I also get the jitters. My stomach gets all fluttery; everything seems more urgent to my mind; I begin having dreams about not being able to find my classroom.

I guess this is the way with all things new and important – they produce a certain amount of nervousness in our bodies and minds. Yet, I know that once I walk into that classroom and get started (the first few minutes of set-up in a new class are always nerve-wracking; all those expectant faces waiting on you to say something interesting), I’ll be so glad I am there. This is the way of the things that are “right” in our lives. We feel a little nervous about pursuing them, but when we do, all seems right and good in the world – at least for moments.

Here’s a prayer and “thumbs up” for all of you going back to school today and for all of you parents sending those kids back to school or off for the first time. All is well, and all will be well.

Back to School

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