Winnie the Pooh Bear Wisdom

I just realized I forgot to post the Thursday poem of the week. Compliments of B.P.

"Teddy Bear" by A. A. Milne

A bear, however hard he tries,
Grows tubby without exercise.
Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,
Which is not to be wondered at;
He gets what exercise he can
By falling off the ottoman,
But generally seems to lack
The energy to clamber back.

Now tubbiness is just the thing
Which gets a fellow wondering;
And Teddy worried lots about
The fact that he was rather stout.
He thought: "If only I were thin!
But how does anyone begin?"
He thought: "It really isn't fair
To grudge one exercise and air."

For many weeks he pressed in vain
His nose against the window-pane,
And envied those who walked about
Reducing their unwanted stout.
None of the people he could see
"Is quite" (he said) "as fat as me!"
Then, with a still more moving sigh,
"I mean" (he said) "as fat as I!

One night it happened that he took
A peep at an old picture-book,
Wherein he came across by chance
The picture of a King of France
(A stoutish man) and, down below,
These words: "King Louis So and So,
Nicknamed 'The Handsome!'" There he sat,
And (think of it!) the man was fat!

Our bear rejoiced like anything
To read about this famous King,
Nicknamed "The Handsome." There he sat,
And certainly the man was fat.
Nicknamed "The Handsome." Not a doubt
The man was definitely stout.
Why then, a bear (for all his tub)
Might yet be named "The Handsome Cub!"

"Might yet be named." Or did he mean
That years ago he "might have been"?
For now he felt a slight misgiving:
"Is Louis So and So still living?
Fashions in beauty have a way
Of altering from day to day.
Is 'Handsome Louis' with us yet?
Unfortunately I forget."

Next morning (nose to window-pane)
The doubt occurred to him again.
One question hammered in his head:
"Is he alive or is he dead?"
Thus, nose to pane, he pondered; but
The lattice window, loosely shut,
Swung open. With one startled "Oh!"
Our Teddy disappeared below.

There happened to be passing by
A plump man with a twinkling eye,
Who, seeing Teddy in the street,
Raised him politely to his feet,
And murmured kindly in his ear
Soft words of comfort and of cheer:
"Well, well!" "Allow me!" "Not at all."
"Tut-tut! A very nasty fall."

Our Teddy answered not a word;
It's doubtful if he even heard.
Our bear could only look and look:
The stout man in the picture-book!
That 'handsome' King - could this be he,
This man of adiposity?
"Impossible," he thought. "But still,
No harm in asking. Yes I will!"

"Are you," he said,"by any chance
His Majesty the King of France?"
The other answered, "I am that,"
Bowed stiffly, and removed his hat;
Then said, "Excuse me," with an air,
"But is it Mr Edward Bear?"
And Teddy, bending very low,
Replied politely, "Even so!"

They stood beneath the window there,
The King and Mr Edward Bear,
And, handsome, if a trifle fat,
Talked carelessly of this and that....
Then said His Majesty, "Well, well,
I must get on," and rang the bell.
"Your bear, I think," he smiled. "Good-day!"
And turned, and went upon his way.

A bear, however hard he tries,
Grows tubby without exercise.
Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,
Which is not to be wondered at.
But do you think it worries him
To know that he is far from slim?
No, just the other way about -
He's proud of being short and stout.

My friend Will took this sweet picture of an icicle formation. He showed it to me last week when we were working down in the Lane Lab; it is seriously awesome!

Senior Profile, Dogwood-style

Dakota, junior DPN-er, e-mailed the American Studies majors (all four of us) because the American Studies major is being changed (a good change) and they are reviving old traditions and customs, including the newsletter. Dakota's e-mail began:

"I really hate to do this to you, I do. But Sundahl has spoken, and by some mystic power of Lutheran persuasion I have taken up his command. There shall be a newsletter sent out to our most illustrious [and hopefully successful] alumni, and in keeping with the beautiful newsletters published by Dr. Jordan in 2002/2003, which Matt has generously furnished me with as source material, we will be including...senior profiles. This means you."

I love that. Dakota kills me. He really does. He also makes incredible paper airplanes.

Here are my answers:

What is your thesis topic? Title/adviser if applicable. How did you choose a topic? Any special research or interviews that helped you in your writing?
Loosely stated: the degradation of the family with the expansion of government, focusing on the 1965 Moynihan Report and the black American family. My thesis adviser is Dr. Allan C. Carlson. I chose my thesis topic because of my interest in race relations, government social engineering, and life in a post-Christian nation with fundamental Christian roots. I did research at the Library of Congress and spoke to a few specialists on the phone.

What are you future plans? What would you like to be doing in 10 years?
My future plans involve being fruitfully employed; two years ago, I was at a Cincinnati Reds and Cleveland Indians game with my cousins, and those guys who smooth out the dirt on the baseball diamond came out. I asked my cousin's husband who they were, and he replied, "American Studies majors." My exact future occupation is yet to be decided, but I do know that I would like to continue writing (namely book reviews, articles, essays, short stories and the like) and work towards re-creating a Christian Republic of Letters. If I am being called towards the vocation of marriage, in the next 10 years, I'll be married and re-populating the world with more Roman Catholics; but if not, I'd like to serve the Lord as a missionary overseas.

What aspect of the American Studies program have you most enjoyed over the last four years?
I knew none of the other American Studies majors very well the first two years in the program, and now, four years later, I am very close friends with a few of them, on good terms with all of them. I have loved my teachers and my classes, especially American Order and Disorder with Dr. Birzer, the Robert Frost seminar with Dr. Sundahl and Dr. Willson, and the Conservative-Libertarian Debate with Dr. Schlueter and Dr. Wenzel. I love the interdisciplinary aspect of the major, because I learn more not only in the actual class, but through my surrounding classes, whether it be context or connecting ideas.

Tell me about your best Delta Pi Nu moment or memory. The worst moment or memory is also acceptable and even encouraged.
My favorite Delta Pi Nu memory was the summer between junior and senior year, when Matt Stone, Emily Thiessen, Dakota Fuller and I were all in Washington, D.C. for the summer and Katherine Correll came up to visit. We went out to lunch, briefly discussed amending the DPN constitution and then went to the National Gallery, where we found major figures in history we had read in Dr. Gamble's History of the American Identity class. We got our picture with the portrait of George Berkeley, who said "Westward the course of empire takes its way." So, in a bad memory sort of way, we Dogwoodians mocked the art museum for their lack of proper understanding of historiography in their mini-bios by the art. Nonetheless, for better or for worse, I/ we the class can never read historical texts the same way again. Dr. Gamble, you've ruined us!

Honorable mention to Founding Fridays, a definite highlight of my college experience. I am continually grateful, humbled, and edified by these friendships and conversations, and the chance to enjoy their fellowship over beer.

Any parting wisdom or advice for coming American Studies majors?
Read, read, read: books, essays, speeches, newspaper articles, magazine features, poems and short stories. Take an active interest to know current events as well as the history, political philosophy and literature. Acknowledge that ideas have consequences and prepare accordingly to defend the responsibility of holding thoughts. Do not only seek truth, but intend on finding it; additionally, it will not be enough to know it--one must study it, understand it, and energetically promote it.

Furthermore, American Studies is not a major for the easily intimidated. Take the best teachers and expect to work hard. What a student gets out of the major is contingent of the work one puts in, as well as having an insatiable curiosity and a disposition to be happy in small ways. Dress up often, because it will encourage an air of seriousness towards your studies, but especially after pulling an all-nighter (what I fondly call "the graveyard shift"). Smile on test days. Never cease from exploration. Find your passion. Don't be afraid to discuss ideas with people who hold differing views. And never, ever underestimate people who wear penny loafers.

Give a parting author, book or quote that you are fond of in the context of Hillsdale/American Studies/DPN.

“Religion, morality, and knowledge, being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall be forever encouraged.”
--Article 3 of the Northwest Ordinance

Also, an incomplete list of favorite reads: George Nash's "The Conservative Intellectual Movement in America since 1945," John Courtney Murray, S.J.'s "We Hold These Truths," Robert Frost's poetry and lectures, Flannery O'Connor's "Mystery and Manners," Willa Cather's "Death Comes For the Archbishop," Whittaker Chamber's "Letter to my Children," F.A. Hayek's "Constitution of Liberty," Russell Kirk's essays, Martin Luther King Jr.'s "Letter from a Birmingham Jail," Zora Neale Hurston's "How It Feels To Be Colored Me," T.S. Eliot's "Four Quartets," William F. Buckley's "The Trojan Horse of American Education?" and Paul Elmer More's "Pages from an Oxford Diary."

And for 10 bonus points, what is the true, the good and the beautiful?
It is not what, but rather--who: "I AM" (Exodus 3:14). The Incarnation of our Lord gives meaning to the past, understanding to the present, and hope to the future, reflecting truth (Gospel of John, chapter 1), goodness (Romans 2:4), and beauty (Psalm 104), for "it touched heaven, but it stood upon the earth" (Wisdom 18:16).

Second bonus question: what is the most American beer? In other words: "What would George Washington drink?"
Shiner Bock, hands down.

Tonight starts my last Initiation weekend ever... can't believe it.
"Kappas are dedicated to living by the ultimate Greek ideals of goodness, truth, and beauty. Kappa at its core is about these qualities: leadership, scholarship, and friendship."

Off to see my own Marianne!

“Stories of pious children tend to be false. This may be because they are told by adults, who see virtue where their subjects would see only a practical course of action; or maybe because such stories are written to edify and what is written to edify usually ends by amusing. For my part, I have never cared to read about little boys who build alters and play they are priests, or about little girls who dress up as nuns, or about those pious Protestant children who lack this equipment but brighten the corners where they are.” –Flannery O’Connor, beginning of Introduction to A Memoir of Mary Ann

Writing takes the taste out of Peanut Butter

The Guardian did a symposium on Ten Rules for Writing Fiction. Here was my favorite:

AL Kennedy

1 Have humility. Older/more ­experienced/more convincing writers may offer rules and varieties of advice. ­Consider what they say. However, don't automatically give them charge of your brain, or anything else – they might be bitter, twisted, burned-out, manipulative, or just not very like you.

2 Have more humility. Remember you don't know the limits of your own abilities. Successful or not, if you keep pushing beyond yourself, you will enrich your own life – and maybe even please a few strangers.

3 Defend others. You can, of course, steal stories and attributes from family and friends, fill in filecards after lovemaking and so forth. It might be better to celebrate those you love – and love itself – by writing in such a way that everyone keeps their privacy and dignity intact.

4 Defend your work. Organisations, institutions and individuals will often think they know best about your work – especially if they are paying you. When you genuinely believe their decisions would damage your work – walk away. Run away. The money doesn't matter that much.

5 Defend yourself. Find out what keeps you happy, motivated and creative.

6 Write. No amount of self-inflicted misery, altered states, black pullovers or being publicly obnoxious will ever add up to your being a writer. Writers write. On you go.

7 Read. As much as you can. As deeply and widely and nourishingly and ­irritatingly as you can. And the good things will make you remember them, so you won't need to take notes.

8 Be without fear. This is impossible, but let the small fears drive your rewriting and set aside the large ones ­until they behave – then use them, maybe even write them. Too much fear and all you'll get is silence.

9 Remember you love writing. It wouldn't be worth it if you didn't. If the love fades, do what you need to and get it back.

10 Remember writing doesn't love you. It doesn't care. Nevertheless, it can behave with remarkable generosity. Speak well of it, encourage others, pass it on.

There were lots of good entries, many of them quite funny, others quite insightful, so I recommend it whole-heartedly for those parties interested.

It's Always a Perfect Day for Bananafish

The first issue of The Hillsdale Forum is came out last week, but I've been so busy, I hadn't thought to post my article. I wrote an article on gays in the military and how it is not the same thing or concept as the same-sex marriage debate but have decided to hold it over for the next issue or keep it for the talk I am giving in March or April to the Fairfield Society.

Instead, I wrote up a piece on J.D. Salinger's recent demise after reading too many half-baked articles about the man and his works. I'll spare you my recent qualms with The New Yorker et al., but I am pleased with the final product and am thus sharing with the class. And a very happy March 1st. Let the madness begin!

"Cornish, NH Revisited: Reflecting on the death of a misunderstood American misanthrope"

By Julie Robison, Editor in Chief

There are two kinds of people: those who love J. D. Salinger’s “Catcher in the Rye” and those who fling the book against the wall.

I first heard of Salinger in junior high when my teacher mentioned “Catcher” as a book we shouldn’t read until we were older. That summer, I found it in the local bookstore while on vacation in northern Michigan. I bought it, read it, and loved it. In high school, I read “Nine Stories,” a collection of superb short stories, half of which involve the Glass family (who are as dysfunctional as the Caulfields, only better developed). From there I devoured “Raise High the Roof-Beam, Carpenters,” “Seymour, an Introduction,” “Franny and Zooey” and any other writing I could find by or about him.

J.D. Salinger died on January 27, 2010. It should not have been surprising, considering the man was 91 years old. Out came the Salingerites, spewing their adoration into reflective essays and obituaries. Most of the time, they completely missed the point of his stories; the writers seemed to like the feelings Salinger's stories aroused in them more than liking his actual words, dismissing or misinterpreting at their own discretion. If I am mistaken in this assessment, then Salinger was the beginning of the teen angst genre. And I refuse to call J.D. Salinger the inspiration for Meg Cabot novels or the Twilight series.

America has long been infatuated with Salinger, a recluse with the inability to bullshit. Salinger didn’t want the limelight; he wanted to write. Those who looked for Salinger were oftentimes justly disappointed that their disrespect for his privacy did not reap a fruitful chance meeting with the esteemed writer.

Furthermore, Salinger’s writing was not merely whining about shallow situations, feelings or “phonies.” His major themes draw upon the differences between being a child and being an adult. He explored American culture: the loss of innocence and a pressure to grow-up faster; an inability to handle trauma or suffering; religion and spirituality.

Adam Gopnik’s assertion in The New Yorker that “writing, real writing, is done not from some seat of fussy moral judgment but with the eye and ear and heart” is a prime example of missing the point: Salinger’s stories do make moral judgments. His stories allude to moral codes, and while "judging" today has negative connotations, that does not diminish its presence in his plots. Whether the reader wants to see it or not is another issue.

Seymour Glass, for instance, had a nice life, but killed himself while on vacation with his beautiful wife. Holden Caulfield did not leave his prep school and then slum around New York City as a mere act of rebellion: he’s having a nervous breakdown. Teddy voluntarily submits to death; Franny is having a religious awakening and her boyfriend only cares about having sex; Esme spells out words because her little brother can’t handle the fact that the war has made them orphans. Failure to recognize the seriousness of his characters’ conditions is a failure to understand the essence of Salinger.

Salinger produced literature. He did not provide psychiatric help or analysis for hundreds of thousands of teenagers. It is an oversimplification to say Salinger’s works were only a reflection of a post-WW II America, but it would be a literary fallacy to say “Catcher” is mediocre pulp fiction not worth reading. The key is to read beyond “Catcher,” into his short stories and novellas, to better understand the moral void in American youth he was attempting to address.

If Salinger is only to be remembered for one book, then “The Catcher in the Rye” is theoretically not a bad choice. His death is a reminder of his significance to America (although the irony of paying public tribute to such a private person should not be overlooked) and his merit goes beyond his writing: he compelled generations of people to read and think, if only to wonder where the ducks at Central Park go during the winter.