Reading Lolita in Tehran too late at night

Today was a simply wonderful day. I was all set to go in to work and work all day today, when Camille called. I ended up only working for an hour (and accomplishing more in that 1 hour than in the last two days) and heading to Seattle with Camille. We went to the Seattle Art Museum (which I absolutely loved...there's just something lovely about an art museum, especially going to one with someone who also appreciates art), took a walk through the Market, chatted in a coffee shop, enjoyed the sun, saw some funny looking fish (seriously, have you ever seen a rockfish? see below), and then went back to Bellevue for a makeover (for me, which was weird) and movie.

But that's not really what I am reflecting on. When I got home, despite my better judgement, I picked up the book I've been working my way through. I am reading, "Reading Lolita in Tehran," a story about a woman professor of English literature and her struggles as a woman in Iran. I knew it was a bad idea to read it before bed, but I love reading and I...I dunno.

ANYWAY...it was so beautiful. I skimmed a bunch, but that doesn't mean it wasn't beautiful. The amazing thing about that book is that she manages to weave together the history of Iran's Islamic Revolution, the personal accounts of what it was like to be an intellectual and a teacher, and the stories of her female (and some male) students with literary analysis of great novels like Austen, Bronte, Fitzgerald...my goodness. Some of my favorite passages were in her analysis of literature. It is seriously impressive, and although some of it was over my head and some of it jsut didn't connect with me on the level it obviously connected with her...it is something that I cannot process fully before bed without reflecting.

First, I am sorry for the sufferers in the story. Second, I am in awe of her influence as a teacher and her obvious depth of knowledge (and a little jealous and envious). Third, I wish that I understood all of what she wrote about literature and am feeling so uneducated that I missed so many of the things that she noted when I read the books she was talking about. And yet...I can come to sophisticated conclusions too...just maybe not as often or with as much knowledge of the subject. I just feel like even though there is SO MUCH to this novel, and so much I can't understand, I wish that I could. I was talking to Camille today about how I really do wish I could be an intellectual, mostly likely because of the status it gives. That whole idea disgusts me, but nevertheless, there it is. I think this book dredged that up for me again. I wish that I could do what she and her students did...but that just shows me that I missed the whole point of the book...Blech.

Reflection: Anyway...I needed to talk some of these things out, and I did. Another thing I discovered today, on reflection, is that not only do I want to be an intellectual and an adventurer, but I also want to experience what it is like to go out at night, be a part of Bellevue night life. This is also absurd because I may be curious, but I'm also deathly afraid of crowds of people. Nevertheless, upon reflection, I see that I would like to experience many things...there are so many things drawing me and I'm not sure if any of them are good. I'm not sure if they're really all that bad, but I'm pretty sure it'd be better if other things were calling to me.

A Rockfish...I told you it was weird...they're even weirder when they're staring at you!

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