I read a really good book today. (You can read more about it on my other blog.) I've been trying to find time to read it all week, but I finally had the opportunity to spend the afternoon reading, and I'm really glad I did. The book was The Sonnet Lover by Carol Goodman and it was a nice little slap in the face reminding me why I majored in English in the first place. The book is partly based on a story told through sonnets and since the main character was an English professor, the story was filled with lots of stuff that I remember from college, but has been nearly forgotten since I have little need for those things since I graduated.
Partly it makes me sad, because I loved my English classes and reading books that were challenging and scholarly. It reminds me that I'm really not using my education at all in my daily life, and I'm terrified that I'm going to start forgetting it all.
It also makes me sad that I probably won't ever have opportunities to go to far away places and study history and literature like the professor in the novel. What I wouldn't give to have the opportunity to go abroad and learn. I suppose it's not completely out of the question, but it's currently a financial impossibility, nevermind the impracticability of leaving my son for more than a day....
But, it is also a bit inspiring for me. Reminding me that perhaps if I do pick up a book of sonnets, or a book about James Joyce or the Harlem Renaissance, I won't be completely clueless. And perhaps someday I will find some inspiration and be able to apply my education to a piece of my own work.
I love that books make me think. What would I do without them?