campus novels

every summer about this time I read a book, usually a novel, that takes place on a campus. this year's will be porterhouse blue by tom sharpe, a british novel I'd never heard of but I found a free copy this spring and that's as good a reason as any to read it. as a sort of memory game I'm listing the campus novels I've read the past decade's worth of summers:

1. 2009: the groves of academe by mary mccarthy


2. 2008: the rebel angels by robertson davies


3. 2007: traveling through the boondocks by terry caesar


4. 2006: a portrait of the artist as a young man by james joyce and lucky jim by kingsley amis (something of a cheat since I was rereading both in preparation of teaching them in the fall)


5. 2005: the historian by elizabeth kostova


6. 2004: the matter of desire by edmundo paz soldan (also something of a cheat since I was teaching it at the same time)


7. 2003: straight man by richard russo


8. 2002: small world by david lodge


9. 2001: the glittering prizes by frederic raphael


10. 2000: in plato's cave by alvin kernan


11. 1999: publish and perish by james hynes

I may have juxtaposed some of the years but I don't think that matters much. this list doesn't include campus books I've read at other times of the year, like donna tartt's secret history and michael chabon's wonder boys and stanley aronowitz' knowledge factory and any of a half dozen other books about teaching and administration, or campus novels I read long before I became a part of academe, like john osborn's paper chase and robert rimmer's harrad experiment and vladamir nabokov's pnin and philip roth's professor of desire and ghost writer and john gardner's mickelsson's ghosts and francine prose's blue angel and r.f. delderfeld's to serve them all my days and evelyn waugh's brideshead revisited.

here, I think, is the difficulty. I am pretty well-read on this topic and I admire almost all of the books I've listed and some I haven't. but there isn't a single one which I can point to and say it is similar in substance to my experiences as a student or as a teacher. (the closest might be the gardner novel with its failed and mediocre academics. I imagined it happening in my undergrad school throughout, which makes sense given that gardner's binghamton university is a mere 95 miles from my alma mater and a part of the same system.) it's not that all of them have plots or topics that are too sensational to have been something I've experienced; not a single one has more than a page or 2 of descriptions of classes or conferences or meetings where I recognize myself as having been in something like it. is there such a huge difference between the types of colleges these books are about and the types I have been to that they have no overlap?

another note: all of these books involve colleges or universities. I don't know of a single novel that takes place in a community or technical college.

diversity is acceptance

I'm not the only one to give sermons. my wife gave one this morning in her church in menomonie. I don't think I'm being biased when I say it was quite good because a number of people spoke with her afterward to compliment her.

because she is a xian, it was on a xian topic: "breaking the 5th commandment." what I'm most interested in talking about is the example she gave for finding common ground within divirsity: the question others have raised about the prudence of building an islamic center 2 blocks from the site of the world trade center.

putting aside for the moment the question whether non-muslims ought to be voicing an opinion about where an islamic holy building ought to go--no one polls non-xians about whether a church should be built somewhere--the solution is clearly this: the people who own the site are within their rights to build anything they want to on it. that's codified in our laws and traditions, and so long as we profess to be a republic that enshrines private property, this is how the law will be decided and how it should be decided. as new york representative jerry nadler puts it,"we do not put the Bill of Rights, we do not put...religious freedom to a vote."

on our drive home I saw a muffler shop sign the response to which encapsulates this. it read, "we vote 'no' on mosque at ground zero." it's lovely that whoever is responsible for that sign put his opinion for everyone to see, but the fact is that we don't get a vote. how someone chooses to put his property to use is not up for public debate (outside some caveats like ecological impact or the legality of the business or road congestion or sometimes the effects it might have on other businesses). none of these are at issue for the islamic cultural center and mosque. propriety is obviously an issue for some people--although I note not the people most immediately affected by the building--and they have voiced their objections and that's as it should be. but they don't have the final decision and to insist they somehow do is embarrassing.

this is how we live, surrounded by events and things and people we like and those we don't. it's a measure of our maturity and faith that we accept the latter with greater equanimity than we give the former. diversity is not about tolerance but about acceptance of those things we don't have the right to a voice in. simply put, non-muslims do not have a voice in the outcome of this debate.

"not waving but drowning"

I have an issue with suicide and I also have issues with people who attempt suicide. I take it so seriously that I lost a friend years ago because I called 911 after she threatened to hurt herself, and she did not take kindly to cops showing up at her door to make certain she wasn't going to do it. I don't understand people for whom it's a joke, but more than that I don't understand people for whom it's an option, and I understand even less the people who try to make it happen.

that said, I'm also aware there are elements in other peoples' lives I don't understand, and if I lived with those situations I might also consider it. I do understand the catholic reaction against it, that killing yourself is a denial of god's goodness and maybe of god's existence. for myself, bad as things have been, I've always held onto the idea that so long as I'm alive, things can improve. I recognize not everyone believes that or that there could be an improvement to their lives. as with almost everything else, it is complicated.

all this is a roundabout way of broaching that I have spent time with friends whose eldest son attempted suicide 2 nights ago. this was not the first time and he has placed himself or been placed in psychiatric wards 4 times since may. his mother and brother found him unconscious in his apartment, lying on the remains of the coffeetable that broke his fall. he had taken an overdose of lorazepam and passed out. his mother told me after he regained consciousness enough to answer questions about what he'd taken and when that he intended to die.

I'm close with his family and was with them through the accidental death of a daughter 4 years ago, and since he's joined them here on the rim from california, I've nudged closer to him. he isn't aware I feel strongly about suicide and I don't intend to let him know that. (his family, having been present at sermons when I've talked about suicide, probably is.) how do I counsel someone who's attempted something that is the ultimate "fuck you" to everything I believe, that it is better to be alive than to be dead, and that so long as we breath there's hope? I suppose the same way I do on so many things: by keeping my mouth shut and listening, reminding him from time to time that he is not alone and not unloved.

his mother told me she had come to an epiphany in the last month, that she and her family chose to live the way they do because there are precious few others willing to live that way: taking in troubled kids, kids with addictions and mental illnesses, and providing them with the love of extended family. this is an important recognition. there are times when clergy like me have to admit, if only to ourselves, that we just can't understand the depth of how defeated some people feel and the best we can do is quietly be there.

what if?

this is an idea I've long considered and I intend to think in greater earnest about it after having read this essay. what would be the consequence theologically of our finding life elsewhere? not necessarily nasty or enlightened life and not even intelligent--by which we almost always mean "more intelligent than we are"--life, but life of a sort we would recognize?

this would have a tremendous impact as most faiths assume this planet is alone in the universe as a site for god's or nature's or ultimate reality's experimentation. it's a science fiction topic ripe with possibilities and I almost never see it handled in novels or movies. almost invariably extraterrestrial life is handled almost like we handle new neighbors we hadn't realized were building over the hill: surprise and then reaction to their behavior that has an impact on us.

what if the raelians and scientologists and ufo cults are right, not in their particulars, but in their generality that we share the universe with other independently developed beings? would faiths adapt, accepting these unknowns as co-existers? would the unknown itself become the new god or some aspect of a new god? or would most religions retreat into isolationism, claiming that there really isn't any other life or that it isn't important or it's a development of the adversary (as some have done with fossils)?

at the mall

after seeing my dad off at the airport--the flight out to the rim was the 1st he'd been on a plane in nearly 20 years--I swung around to the mall of america for my semi-annual pilgrimage. I'm not much of a shopper but I like the mall, the opportunity to walk unimpeded for as long as I like, to people-watch, and to see what the zeitgeist is up to. today there were a few surprises:

• it took me 45 minutes to walk the 4 floors at a brisk pace. I seem to remember it used to take me an hour, so I may have sped up or the mall may have hunched in;


• who knew franklin covey still has a store? I was sure they'd gone belly up;


• the stores are less interesting than I remember, all clothes and smoke machines now.


• there are fewer interactive games: the rides of nickelodeon universe and the store games by james, devoted to monopoly and darts, are still there, but gone are minigolf, the virtual golf course, and lasertag;


• gone also is the store pain is good, the only store I've ever known that catered to the hot pepper fan;


• the number of good-looking, well-dressed sales associates is infinitely greater than the number of good-looking, well-dressed customers (at least late morning on a tuesday);


• there are also fewer (obvious) hookers working the floors that time of day;


• similarly, there were also no roving packs of suburban tweens on this schooless day;


• all the comfortable chairs that have been removed from the b&ns and borders in the area have been taken to the mall to be used in various lobbies. I counted at least 3 such lobbies, all of them settled into by elderly men, on each floor;


• there is no other way to put it but that the mall is an assault on all the senses--visual, aural, tactile, taste and esthetic--but I like the way it smells. it is a jumble of spices, cleansing chemicals, baking odors, perfumes, body odor and sweaty hair and the obnoxious tang of recycled air, with occasional and delightful whiffs of cinnamon, coriander, lilac, fir, balsam and soap and wax. I could remain a full day with my eyes open in the butterfly garden, but I could remain with my eyes closed in the mall.

an unintended vacation

my now-widowed dad is visiting, and while I hadn't intended to take a week's vacation from writing, it's turned out that way. we've been very busy, spending most days away from home, and as a sample of how we've spent our time I'm posting a video of our visit to como zoo's butterfly exhibit made by my wife.

the political disciple

my dad is coming to visit so the house is in an uproar as we try to make up for 10 years' worth of ignoring the interior so it looks at least a little presentable. which is a long way of saying that my wife had declared the shower off-limits yesterday. I wanted to attend a church service but didn't relish the thought of doing so scruffy and with much sweat from the day before, so I decided this was a good opportunity to try an online service.

I spent about 10 minutes choosing one--there are of course many, many to choose from--but this one sounded interesting. while I was interested in the topic, I was also interested in the existence of alpha as a completely web-based church. this is a field that interests me as I work out the concept of an online alternative to brick-and-mortar sermons and services especially geared to teens and tweens and young adults.

the service was quick, the sermon following immediately after a short prayer and scripture reading. there was no "good morning" or "welcome," simply a direction: "let us begin with a prayer." the sermon was good, a focus on one of the less-talked about and sometimes offensive disciple simon the zealot whose jewish zealotry is sometimes used to illustrate the supersessionism of xianity over judaism. this was not one of those sermons. the preacher, rev. pat walker, called him "the political disciple" and he certainly was, and while I'm not certain I buy her argument that simon was more interested in jesus as a spiritual than a political leader, she offers enough good evidence for that interpretation and it's as good an argument as any. it was a bit hard to follow the sermon as illustrations were constantly changing so it seemed more like a powerpoint presentation than a lecture. that might not be a bad thing, however; perhaps my discomfort is a result of my being unaccustomed to listening to a sermon this way. I will need a few more examples to find out.

but I am unhappy that the sermon is unable to be accessed either as a document or as a searchable audio for later reflection--you play it from beginning to end and if you want to hear something again, you replay the whole sermon. it's not long at all; I timed the whole service at about 20 minutes including the readings. there were no songs (although there was incidental music during the sermon) or opportunities for joys and concerns or community sharing. there was a children's sermon available, which I ignored, and a 10 minute communion, which I opted to take part in. from beginning to end it lasted about 30 minutes, which seemed strange as I'm accustomed to hour-long and longer services and don't shrink from multi-hour fundamentalist meetings. it was a rich service but seemed too quick, and that may again be my reaction against what I'm not used to.

but here is what I liked best about the service: rev. walker's voice. it was straightforward and charming and heartfelt. she probably does the services in a single take as evidenced by her voice occasionally strainging. she stumbles over words and names and sometimes when her audience read along with her she missaid the written words, adding or subtracting from the text. that seemed right to me, a reflection of what a real, felt, honest service sounds like (and a reflection too of my own experience preaching, when I'll often add or subtract words and sentences from my written sermon as seems appropriate, sometimes leading me to stumble). I appreciate that frailty and humbleness in a preacher, one who is less concerned in getting things correct than in getting things right. I am certain to visit this church again.