Seeing myself through poetry

Recently on the Moodle website, Dr. H, a few classmates, and I discussed how much of poetry is interpreted based on the reader's experiences and how much can only be interpreted based on the author's experiences. Tonight, I realized that quite a bit of meaning is gleaned through the reader.

I read Keats' "Ode to a Nightingale" only this evening, and as I wrote up my response, realized that my vision of the speaker's situation almost mirrored my mental pH, so to speak. I'm in no way a dark, gloomy person, but since my early teen years, if not earlier, I have spent a lot of time mulling death and the afterlife. Most of this is due to my religious beliefs and curiosities - when I spend time reading Scripture, I am very interested in what God has to say about our eternal future - my eternal future.

Sometimes I take in the day's events around the world and feel claustrophobic. I mourn the fact that I am stuck in a world that experiences such pain and suffering. I get bogged down in fear and depression - I want out. I feel like I'm trapped in a very tight, very volatile box with a bunch of dangerous criminals and blood-thirsty radicals, and I want to run, flee, get away from it. Of course, I can't, so I get to feeling the way I thought Keats sounded - sad, gloomy, hopeless, and just ready to give up and let death swallow us.

But according to my God, I was not appointed to this fate ("Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!"). According to my God, I have a higher calling. I am NOT hopeless in this world, and I am certainly NOT helpless. I will not accept the fate that it sounds as if Keats was ready to accept, not willingly. I will be like the nightingale, "Still wouldst thou sing....Singest of summer in full-throated ease."

These past couple of weeks regarding British Lit have been very productive for me. It's always been a goal of mine to be a regular reader. I bought all sorts of books I wanted to read, but during the school year it usually occurs to me that if I'm going to read, I'd better read out of my textbooks first. By the time I can read for pleasure, I'm drained. The monotony of textbooks makes me sick of reading, and I flop in front of the TV. So I was excited about taking a literature class, since several of my favorite books that I HAVE somehow managed to read were written by British authors - David Copperfield, Tess of the D'Urbervilles, Pride and Prejudice, and multiple writings by C.S. Lewis.

I have read more in the last two or three weeks than I think I ever have, and I've actually been enjoying (most) of the selections. (It was really a chore to make it through "The Mariner.") Most have that characteristic descriptive, lyrical tone I love so much about British literature. Honest, open, vulnerable, and beautiful.