Since I started graduate school in 2005, I expected that at some point I would be required to teach a composition class. Parker's advent put a stop to that possibility, which I don't regret in the least, but since then I have continued to read about composition, and have even considered writing assignments that might be useful as I seek to practice and improve my own writing skills.
Here's the assignment:
Look at the books on your bookshelf. You probably have some story for each of them. This may be as simple as explaining where you bought or borrowed each book and why, whether you actually have read the book or not, the impulse that led you to purchase or borrow that particular book. Tell me what you expect to get from the book if you haven't yet read it, or what you thought about the book if you have. I'm basically looking for narratives concerning desired objects. These don't have to be books if you are not a big reader, although if you are willing to take the time to write something like this, you probably are. It can be about anything collectable, like china, or figurines, stuffed animals, games, CDs. You can write about devotional books if you like, or translations of the Bible, and what you learned from them or how they drew you closer to God.
What is the purpose of this assignment? To practice writing, of course, but also to make old things new again, to help you remember exactly why something special to you is special, or maybe even to help you let go of objects that have lost their meaning.
If anyone actually wants to do this I will be happy to read anything you want to send me. Hopefully I'll be able to give some feedback if you want to treat this like a writing exercise, although this may depend on Parker's cooperation.
8 comments:
Not sure this is what you were after, but this is an adaptation of a review I wrote a couple of years back.
Hearing the Jazz
Donald Miller’s Blue Like Jazz was recommended to me by a wide range of folks. Ronnie, an Episcopal priest said, You’ll love this book, it fits you.” Several less liturgical friends made similar comments, so I cashed in some coupons and got a copy.
The book reads like a stream of consciousness or entries in a diary. We follow the author’s life from when he “. . . started to sin about the age of ten” and on through his spiritual pilgrimage. Along the way he introduces us to his friends.
There’s Tony the beat poet, who isn’t a poet, and Andrew the protester, who is a protester. We learn that Nadine established a relationship with the hippie Penny, and led her to Christ. Then Penny and Donald led atheist Laura to Christ, and so the chain goes, not in drama, but in reality.
Miller is an intellectual in his thinking, without the impediment of academic credentials. He lives in Portland, Oregon, the “most unchurched” city in the U.S. and attended Reed College, selected by the Princeton Review as “most likely to ignore God.” But in the midst of this darkness, he both sees and experiences the light of God shining brightly. I can relate to both Portland and to Reed. I describe our campus as the darkest place spiritually in our state. But sometimes I even see a glimmer of light here, too.
The most personally valuable part of the book is Miller’s brutal, unmitigated honesty about himself. At one point, with respect to America’s lack of interest in the poor and disenfranchised, Miller declares, “I am the problem.”
This brings to mind that the great Christian author, G.K. Chesterton, once entered a LondonTimes newspaper essay contest on the subject of “What’s wrong with the world?” Chesterton’s entry contained just two words: “I am.” What’s the problem with Christianity on my campus? I am.
Miller highlights what may be the most pervasive sin in academia, self-absorption. As a professor, husband and father, and as a citizen, self-absorption describes me as much as Don Miller. We pray with self-absorption. We do or don’t do what we ought, because of self-absorption. Miller confesses, “. . . for a moment . . . I imagined a life outside narcissism.” I can scarcely even imagine freedom from narcissism, but the Holy Sprit gives me hope.
Miller’s brand of honesty is surprsingly effective in our homes and in our classrooms. In the late 80’s I attended a conference where Dr. Howard Hendricks of Dallas Seminary talked about teaching. He remarked that we could dispense pearls of wisdom every day and hardly attract our students’ interest. But, Hendricks said, when we talk about our weaknesses, students line up outside our door. As often as my narcissism allows, I follow his advice.
Being able not only to admit our weaknesses to ourselves, but to the world is a tough journey. Everything in the academy pushes us to present the best face—even if it isn’t ours. I want to be perceived as competent like the heroes in the movies. I don’t want to admit to professional or spiritual failures. Like Miller, “I don’t want to be charity,” even when it’s God’s grace that I most need. Perhaps that’s why people seem more intrigued by my failures than my successes. God didn’t call me to be perfect, but to be swaddled in grace and on the same pilgrimage fraught with missteps as Donald Miller.
Miller somehow is able to point out our mutual failures; making me aware of them without making me feel guilty. That’s why it’s in my top-five book list along with works by C.S. Lewis, Philip Yancey, and Ken Gire.
Which brings us to the Church, the Bride of Christ on our campus and in our community. Miller points out that people don’t really have much trouble with Jesus Christ, it’s Christianity that’s the big hurdle. What can we do to demonstrate Christ and separate true faith from our baggage?
This book is a great read for those who want to be salt and light in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation (or campus). It exemplifies a Christ-like view of confession, grace, and redemption on my campus and yours. Miller gives this benediction to his book: “Ask Him (Jesus) to forgive you of self-addiction, ask Him to put a song in your heart.”
I believe, Lord, help Thou my unbelief.
Beware, the blog destroys the formatting!!!
Not quite what I had in mind (you said you weren't sure this was what I was after), but I enjoyed reading it again anyway.
Speaking of Donald Miller, it seems to me that his writing style and subject matter is specifically geared to the college/university community, although I know others who enjoy his writing as well. I'd be interested to know, if you or anyone else agrees this is so, why it is so, because I don't necessarily know exactly what I mean by it. Miller seems to be in tune with the culture in ways that other Christian writers are not. This may be a positive or a negative thing, most probably a combination of the two. I do know that his writing appeals to me--so maybe his appeal has to do with my particular age group. He and I are probably of a similar age. I'd like to see you write a review of the Lauren Winner book I gave you (Girl Meets God) because I do like analysis so much.
In the assignment I posted was thinking more of books as artifacts. I called them "desired objects" in my post. I was thinking more in terms of personal narratives rather than actual authorial content. Also, if anyone does take me up on this offer, you can summarize your text in your comments and then email me the full length composition.
I'll figure out what to do about my email address later.
Thanks for the post.
Two things:
Your quote amused me (the one about everybody writing a book nowadays). I've read it before and remember thinking in a rather smug tone "Well, not me, buddy, I'll never write a book." I've been writing fiction since I was ten or so, and never, ever thought I'd write a book. But I did, finished it up a few months ago. Just three weeks ago I got up enough courage to let someone actually READ it. Whew. Now a few others are doing the same. It's scary, I tell ya!
The other thing: I'm reading James Patterson's The Women's Murder Club series, and they're ok reading. I read whatever I can get my hands on until something great comes along. The last great book was "Freddie and Fredricka" by Mark Helprin. It is the funniest book I've ever read, and that's saying a lot, considering I wolf down a dozen or so books a month.
Looked at *Freddy and Frederica* when I was at the bookstore this evening. I'll have to see if I can get it from the library once I finish Pickwick, Annie Dillard Reader, Fiery Cross, various Foucault and associated critics, etc.
The quote is from Robertson Davies lecturing about writing, "You can hardly throw a stone in the street without hitting somebody who has written a book."
Read any Robertson Davies? He has a collection of ghost stories that is well worth reading, although the ones from the earlier chapters are more enjoyable than those that come later as far as I'm concerned.
How much time do we have for this assignment, teacher?
Indefinitely, I guess. but if you're looking for a deadline, let's say two weeks from today (insert whatever day you're first reading this comment).
Hey, Kelly! Since I'm new to your blog, I'm reading thru past entries, and enjoyed the review on Blue Like Jazz. I was shook up like a snow globe from the book, but not too violently (I consider that a good thing). I didn't see it as a book for academia, but for all people wanting to walk in truth.
I am way too overloaded to contemplate a "writing assignment," but I did want to tell you about a book I just finished that I thought you'd enjoy: The Careful Use of Compliments by Alexander McCall Smith (filed under M at the library).
He is insightful, descriptive, observant, and the characters come to life in the pages. He's the same one who wrote the #1 Ladies Detective Society series (or something like that) set in Africa, which is delightful reading (I have 2 at home with me now, one on CD, which is a great way for me to get housework done at night)! I don't know how he can write so well from a woman's standpoint.
I think you'd like this book because of all the literary allusions and philosophy woven into the way the heroine processes life, and because she has a newborn baby, and feels awesomely blessed. It's not from a Christian perspective necessarily (she's not married to the father, for instance), but she is presented as believing at some level, which is interesting.
I realize that this is totally divergent to your original post, which just goes to show you how my brain works!
Post a Comment