Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Last night I went to the Eagle & Child pub for dinner with one of my resident fellows. We sat in the "Rabbit Room," which is where the "Inklings" all hung out and discussed the brilliant ideas they all had and generally had a good time. I did too!
The chicken curry pie I ordered was fantastic, but the side that came along with it has me puzzled about the English and their tastes. On the side of my dish was some lettuce, carrot sticks, and then brown gravy poured all over it. It wilted the lettuce and made it all taste sharper than the ale I had with it. Why in the world do the British substitute brown gravy for dressing? It might resemble a balsamic vinaigrette, but it certainly does not taste like one! Anyway, that's a side note of little or no importance. Sorry!
After dinner, I went to the C. S. Lewis Society's weekly meeting at St. Pucy's to hear a lecture by Alistair McGrath. It was on Lewis as an apologist by his use of personal experience and his use of the imagination. It was thoroughly engaging. I love that other more academic minds than mine also find Lewis so engaging because of his love for story, imagination, and whimsy. I've always been in love with stories, and it is so wonderful to feel validated for my yearnings by such a respected person as C. S. Lewis. He wasn't afraid to tell a children's story and still be a high academic mind. That's one of the things I have loved most about him and it's nice to be validated in that as well by other academics who have followed in Lewis' footsteps.
I do not see myself going for the higher halls of learning and becoming a teacher of great literature. I don't think I would be capable or that I would even like it. All I see is the pressure. Education has become a different monster than the one Lewis had to face, and I don't see myself as any kind of white knight. Frankly, I'm scared of the entire process. But I would love to learn more, read more, and write great things. I want to tell my own stories. I'm not sure how, and there are so many other distractions in life that keep me from it. But I simply must. No more leaving it for a quieter time! I'm afraid there won't be any of those until it is too late.
Well, Oxford is thrilling so far. I've been yelled at by a cranky bus driver, almost ran over in the street because I forgot to look the right (or arguably wrong) way, met an incredible amount of simply wonderful people in such a short amount of time, and have free reign over Lewis' bookshelves. And I'm keeping busy enough to almost not be homesick.