Walt Whitman and the Most Boring Lecture Yet

Well, it might be the simpler English course this semester, but that doesn’t mean its potential for frustration is in any way diminished. Some lecturer wasted an hour of my life today talking about the binding and cover of Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, the three metaphors in the title of that work, parroting some Emerson essay for about thirty minutes, and extolling the virtues of the American character as though it were some homoerotic process of creative inspiration. Oh. Dear. And I won’t even start on her ineptitude in the art of clicking “next” in Powerpoint. Shoot me now.

Unfortunately it is the same lecturer again tomorrow. I’m going to be getting an aisle seat close to the door.

Then there is (mercifully) a one-week hiatus, after which she will proceed to (probably) butcher Emily Dickinson — who looks vastly more interesting than Whitman to start with, but I fear this can only mean there is further to fall.