Remember that scene in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader in which Lucy reads “The Spell for Knowing What Other People Think of You”? She doesn’t like it. This is a story of a time I had a similar experience.
I taught a literature class in which we spent a couple of class periods on Emily Dickinson. Listen, the last thing I would want to be is self-congratulatory or a tooter of my own horn. But my lecture on the poem “A bird, came down the walk” was one for the ages. Dickinson’s poem was beautiful already, but I like to think I beautified it considerably with this lecture. The poem starts with the image of a bird who caught a worm, “And ate the fellow, raw.” That’s pretty earthy stuff. The poem #wanders through a few beautiful images of the bird until, ultimately that same earthy, bloodthirsty bird takes flight like some kind of angel:
And he unrolled his feathers,
And rowed him softer Home -
Than Oars divide the Ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon,|
Leap, plashless as they swim.
As I waxed eloquent on the bird, I think I saw a few students wipe away tears. I got a little weepy myself. It wasn’t lost on me how fortunate those students were to have been there for this lecture.
Anyway, that same week a former student tagged me on Twitter for one reason or another. I got to clicking around on his Twitter page, and then I noticed that he was friends with a few of my current students.
Now we’re getting to the part where I read The Spell for Knowing What Other People Think of You. Reader, I clicked on the Twitter account of one of my students. And this is what she had written: “Somebody rescue me. I’m sitting in English class, and my professor is droning on and on about a stupid bird in a poem.”
You may have read my post from October 5 in which a student wrote a final-exam essay about Donkey Oatey. This was the same student. Apparently it was her calling in life to ensure I didn’t get too big for my britches. #inktober2023