Jeffrey Berman Death in the Classroom, Writing About Love and Loss (2009)

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.His attachment to Cathy gives their lives meaning and value.Wednesday, March 22Today I began with what must be one of the most astounding statements inWuthering Heights: Ellen Dean s assertion to Cathy, You never had oneshadow of substantial sorrow (257), a remark that Cathy inexplicably refusesto challenge.I would be dumbfounded if Ellen had said that to me.How oddthat the central trauma in a child s life early maternal loss remains un-spoken throughout the novel.I asked my students to speculate as to why noone comments on maternal loss.I have no explanation apart from the bio-graphical fact that Emily Bront� was only three years old when her motherdied.Perhaps the novelist could not imagine what her life would have beenlike had she grown up with a mother; however, her imagination was surely oneof the most powerful among all novelists, so this explanation remains un-satisfying.I then discussed the ways in which both Edgar and Heathcliff diewith ecstatic expressions on their faces, anticipating a reunion in death withtheir beloved Catherine.If I had more time in class, I would have readselections from The Hour of Our Death, including Aries s statement that inEdgar s deathbed scene one finds the two essential elements of the romanticdeath: happiness and the family reunion.The first is the release, the de-liverance, the flight into the immensity of the beyond; the second is theintolerable separation that must be compensated for by a restoration in thebeyond of what has been temporarily removed (436).Monday, March 27There was no class today because midterm exams were due.I m feeling over-whelmed by all the work I ve been doing in the course, so I can use the extratime to read the fourth writing assignment, imagining young Cathy s letter toher deceased mother.I didn t realize when I gave seven writing assignmentsthat I would spend so much time commenting on the essays, correcting gram-matical and stylistic errors, selecting several to read aloud in class, and thensoliciting and analyzing the students anonymous feelings about the assign-ment.Yet for me this is the most valuable aspect of the course.I find that I m130 Cathy s Letter in Wuthering Heightsmore interested in the student writings than in the course readings.I wonder ifthe students feel the same way.Wednesday, March 29I began class today by reading aloud selections from several letters written by Cathy to her deceased mother.So many of the essays are beautifully written,capturing the mood and mystery of the novel.Witness the opening paragraphsof Ava s essay:With the season bordering upon another bleak year, I find myself desolate andwithdrawn.I know this letter shall never reach you and I pen these words in vainbut I have no other solace.Melancholy has pervaded me, tears spring easily tomy eyes, and my customary activities, which were at one time lively and carefree,are now muted.I have no desire to be out of doors.The once beautiful flowersand sun, the whole of my surroundings, are now pale of life and color, for all mythoughts are bent on forbidden love.Oh, how I wish I had a confidant to whom Icould reveal my innermost thoughts! Yet, I feel I am without a friend on thisearth and have nowhere to turn to for consolation.I write this letter in hope thatit will draw you closer to me in my heart and that maybe, somehow, even indeath, you can help me through this troublesome time in my life.Lately, I cannot help but feel the specters of the past surrounding me.Sometimes when I feel a cold rush of wind pass through the curtains, my heartraces and I wonder if it is your ghost coming back to check on me from thebeyond.I know I must appear to be a silly girl, with an imagination full ofridiculous thoughts and hopes; yet, maybe I wouldn t imagine the presence ofapparitions if I knew of even a few of your experiences.Since I bear yournamesake, could it be that we have other similarities? When I was younger, Inoticed a faded area on the wall exactly opposite father s portrait.I would spendhours gazing upon that spot, knowing that at one time it held a frame filled withyour countenance, and imagining what features we may have shared.Perhaps wehad the same blond ringlets and fair skin.I do not understand why father tookthe portrait down.It must have pained him greatly to look at it, and so, Imention no word of my thoughts aloud.I love father as much as life itself and donot want to cause him any grief [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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