Crying

[triskellian]

Contemporary Writing, my new course, started this morning, and, unexpectedly, it made me cry. Not bawling or sobbing. Nothing so undignified, just a watering of the eyes. It reminded me of going to see The English Patient with, I think, liriselei and metame, and afterwards none of us looked at each other, and all discreetly brushed tears away.

Some of you may have guessed why the class made me cry. As the course name suggests, it's about writing happening now (although for matters of practicality, 'now' is loosely interpreted. Don't worry secretrebel, I'm not going to be looking over your shoulder, writing an essay on your writing at the exact same time as you're writing it). It's about how the writing of the moment interacts with the culture of the moment, and the examples we read this morning are these pieces written by Ian McEwan and Martin Amis for the Guardian in the immediate aftermath of September 11th. It was the McEwan piece which made me cry. I'm a bit of a sucker for emotional button-pressing anyway, and the stories he tells of phone calls from the World Trade Center made me cry when I first heard them, but I was surprised to find them having the same effect two years later.

Comments

[bluedevi.livejournal.com]

So that's where the "no amount of terrible art can cheapen 'I love you'" quote comes from. That's a very powerful article. I can see why your eyes were wet. :/

One of the girls in my writing group has just written her own account of that day for our new anthology. It's rather good, and also very moving. I can point you at it when it's done?

[triskellian]

Yes please.