Cracking open Milton over the weekend was exhilarating for me.
Now I don't want to touch the book.
I don't normally go through bi-polar feelings like this--my depression ranges wide and wanders as it lists, but I don't often get whiplash when it comes to the pillars of support I have. This is a strange experience for me, since usually a bad day will push me toward Milton or Shakespeare, not from them.
But I was immensely disappointed in today's lesson. Not so much the students--they don't get as excited about Milton as I do, and I know that and I understand it. They're polite and engaged because, for some, it's engaging; the rest operate out of habit.
No, I was disappointed in me. Part of it is that today was one of my most delicate, intricate lessons. We were talking about line 26 of the first Book of Paradise Lost. You know the one: "And justify the ways of God to men." Well, that requires an explanation about theodicy, and that is a thorny problem on its own, to say nothing for a bunch of teenagers who tend not to think deeply about theological issues.
Normally, I use this opportunity to explain the dilemma and let the students push their way toward a worthwhile solution. This is not an easy path, and students can get frustrated. I definitely understand this, and in many ways, that's the point--to get them to want to see an answer in the hopes that they can get it out of the poem. I feel like I did end up putting the students in more solid ground by the end of the second hour's work, but I don't feel satisfied. Maybe it was the number of glazed-over eyes, the lack of a variety of voices, or the blase sentiment that's been sitting on me all day, but whatever the case, I wasn't happy. I'm not happy about the experience.
A Milton Monday should be a joyful day, but instead it was just like any other. I know my passion for this piece hasn't ebbed--I overshot how long I was supposed to study it yesterday, pulling myself away only after some time because I knew I needed to work on other things. I got chills while reading some of the pieces of Milton's poetry (Sonnet 23 is out of this world) today, so I know I'm not burning out.
It's just that I can't shake a feeling that I'm not getting anywhere, and since I know where I want to be, that is frustrating.
Now I don't want to touch the book.
I don't normally go through bi-polar feelings like this--my depression ranges wide and wanders as it lists, but I don't often get whiplash when it comes to the pillars of support I have. This is a strange experience for me, since usually a bad day will push me toward Milton or Shakespeare, not from them.
But I was immensely disappointed in today's lesson. Not so much the students--they don't get as excited about Milton as I do, and I know that and I understand it. They're polite and engaged because, for some, it's engaging; the rest operate out of habit.
No, I was disappointed in me. Part of it is that today was one of my most delicate, intricate lessons. We were talking about line 26 of the first Book of Paradise Lost. You know the one: "And justify the ways of God to men." Well, that requires an explanation about theodicy, and that is a thorny problem on its own, to say nothing for a bunch of teenagers who tend not to think deeply about theological issues.
Normally, I use this opportunity to explain the dilemma and let the students push their way toward a worthwhile solution. This is not an easy path, and students can get frustrated. I definitely understand this, and in many ways, that's the point--to get them to want to see an answer in the hopes that they can get it out of the poem. I feel like I did end up putting the students in more solid ground by the end of the second hour's work, but I don't feel satisfied. Maybe it was the number of glazed-over eyes, the lack of a variety of voices, or the blase sentiment that's been sitting on me all day, but whatever the case, I wasn't happy. I'm not happy about the experience.
A Milton Monday should be a joyful day, but instead it was just like any other. I know my passion for this piece hasn't ebbed--I overshot how long I was supposed to study it yesterday, pulling myself away only after some time because I knew I needed to work on other things. I got chills while reading some of the pieces of Milton's poetry (Sonnet 23 is out of this world) today, so I know I'm not burning out.
It's just that I can't shake a feeling that I'm not getting anywhere, and since I know where I want to be, that is frustrating.
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