The (happy) English Major (part 2of 2)

Part 1 of 2 within:
One of the amazing benefits of being an English major is the fact that I am given opportunities to meet authors. Yesterday, my scifi literature class played host to best selling author Robert Charles Wilson. His name might not ring a bell, but he's a really well-known author both to scifi fans and non scifi fans (Stephen King for example). Anyway, he came to talk about his novel The Chronoliths. I must admit, for the record, that I have and never have been a huge follower of scifi (novel, tv series, etc); I am more inclined to read fantasy. As a result, I didn't really enjoy a bulk of the course readings for this particular class.

Here comes the exception: Wilson's book doesn't read like a science fiction book. It doesn't load you with nonsensical bits about how the ripping of the space-time continuum was caused by some stray ion that disturbed the whole balance and as a result, all humans turned into several canine species. It's not anything like that (thankfully). It was more about the journey of the protagonist Scotty and how he reacts to the arrival of these chronoliths from a mysterious entity named Kuin. It's not scifi, it's human interest.

Well, to close this section off, I'd like to say that he was nice enough to stay awhile after class and sign books and answer questions. I figured that I have a question stupid enough to need an answer and proceeded to ask him if the Chronoliths were a malevolent version of the monoliths in 2001: A Space Odyssey. He said that in scifi, there's a thing called "big dumb object" that authors use as a focus and thus, they were similar. And he said that it's hard not to be influenced by such a big movie. After that, I made up my mind and decided that I really am going to write the story floating around my crowded head.

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Part 2 of 2 within:
This is another perk of being an English major: getting to read some pretty nice poems.
This one here is for Raissa. For no particular reason but for her appreciation of poetry.

Though I am Young and Cannot Tell (by Ben Jonson, friend and rival to Shakespeare)

Though I am young and cannot tell

Either what Death or Love is well,

Yet I have heard they both bear darts,

And both do aim at human hearts.

And then again, I have been told

Love wounds with heat, as Death with cold;

So that I fear they do but bring

Extremes to touch, and mean one thing.

As in a ruin we it call

One thing to be blown up, or fall;

Or to our end like way may have

By a flash of lightning, or a wave;

So Love's inflamed shaft or brand

May kill as soon as Death's cold hand;

Except Love's fires the virtue have

To fright the frost out of the grave.