Читать книгу Plato and Potato Chips - June Inc. Luvisi - Страница 22

Posted on September 5, 2010 by June

Even before I started school, I loved reading, but it was in my second year of high school that literature loved me back. My teacher was a wise woman who taught us to appreciate Dickens by reading him aloud. Having an opportunity to hear my teacher bring “A Tale of Two Cities” to life in the classroom set off my romantic imagination. I loved hearing her oral interpretation.

However, when I learned we would all be taking a turn at reading aloud, anxiety set in. I was about fourteen, having skipped a grade and a half in grade school (no one gave much thought to social maturity in those days), and this kind of dramatic reading was unfamiliar territory. Unfamiliar and scary. Some of the other students had stumbled on the words and I was petrified that they would remain buried in my throat when I was called upon. It didn’t take much to frighten me in those days and my hands were cold and sweaty as I waited my turn.

Yet the overwhelming and selfless love of the dissipated English barrister Sydney Carton for the lovely Lucie Manette had set my teenage heart afire. Imagine, Sydney was going to the guillotine so that his beloved could be with his rival, the man of her choice! And when it came time for me to read, to my amazement the words I read aloud actually sounded pretty good. Unbelievable as it seemed, my reading turned out to be fun. Dickens had so involved me in his characters that my concern for them shone through my words. For a while my shyness went out the window, and I felt exhilarated. Best of all, my teacher caught up with me after class and said those special words, words I will never forget: “June, I think you should be a writer!”

When I went to college and had to choose a major, however, I opted for a degree in sociology. I believed I could do more for humanity as a social worker and was convinced an English degree was frivolous. It wasn’t until many years later that I followed my instincts and got a masters in English lit and returned to my love of language.

Going back to university in my forties was an adventure! Even when the professors left something to be desired, reading the great masters in maturity was like food for my soul. Later I worked as an adjunct instructor at Harper Community for six years and that was another mind opening experience. My life became so much more satisfying when it included literature. Here I am, sixty-five years after that eventful English class and that wonderful experience with Dickens. And I am writing.