Thoughts about writing, and the universe.
The school year began with two weeks of rain. We bustled to class under umbrellas, hiked through spattering mist, scraped mud from our boots and ran the shoe-drier nonstop. "Summer's over," we said. The moment we returned to Norway, fall began. But somehow the last week of August, the sky cleared. The mist that always... Continue Reading →
Before departing school for the summer, I stopped by the book storage room. A small and musty room of bookshelves adjoining one of the English classrooms, far too many books for the space, piled three deep on the shelves so that you have to shift great tottering piles in order to see what is stacked... Continue Reading →
Some stories seem to move more slowly than drying paint. They elongate scene after scene of a bland character sitting, contemplating, staring at walls. Whole novels can go by without the character doing much more than taking a sip of their watered-down beer as they contemplate the vagaries of their universes. How often do I... Continue Reading →
Over the last year, I have been reading parts of Patience Gray's Honey from a Weed: Fasting and Feasting in Tuscany, Catalonia, the Cyclades and Apulia. Gray traces the food traditions of rural people along Europe's Mediterranean coast, interspersed with stories of the people she met and learned from while she was living in each... Continue Reading →
The last few weeks, my bedtime reading has been another novel I found in the marvelous book storage room at school: Untouchable, published in 1935. It was Mulk Raj Anand's debut novel, written in English, and it marked the beginning of Anand's use of literature to argue against the British colonial presence in India as... Continue Reading →
I worried I was making the wrong choice with books this school year. I worried the book was too long, that the students wouldn't read, and I worried that there was not enough depth of language to warrant the kind of study we needed. But I kept coming back to First They Killed My Father--I... Continue Reading →
For years, we have been planning a dinner with colleagues. The idea first arose two or three years ago--my husband and I are hobby cheesemakers, and two of our colleague-friends come from India and make delicious food. When we mentioned once that we had made paneer over the weekend, our colleague hatched the plan: you... Continue Reading →
I'm writing this shorter post this week on the first of May, a bright and sunny Saturday in this string we have been having of sun and brilliant blue sky days, despite continued cold. Today, I'll be joining the first year students for the yearly hike up Jarstadheia, the local mountain, about 1900 feet. So... Continue Reading →
Yesterday evening, students gathered together for the annual Poetry Slam event. It isn't really a poetry slam. It's something brilliant and beautiful in a different way. Our students come from about ninety countries, and the vast majority have learned English as an additional language. Unfortunately in an English-medium school, the staggering linguistic diversity of our... Continue Reading →
In my first few years of teaching English, when people asked why I had chosen this career, I liked to say that I had chosen it because they paid me to talk about love. This was horribly simplified, delightfully whimsical, and ultimately self-indulgent, I can see now, but it is not entirely untrue. The language... Continue Reading →
Words like trees 