Today, we read Arnold in my English literature class. On this gray morning day, pouring rain, we choose to read Arnold, which heightens its melancholy nature. Hearing "The Buried Life" aloud gave me this distinctive physiological reaction, the way in which beauty makes you feel is indescribable. For me, it's not a tug or pull, but a gush of appreciation. Sometimes, I appear half-human, like in Microeconomics when we talk about the importance of capitalism and free trade, always, it's comforting to know that I am alive.
And there arrives a lull in the hot race
Wherein he doth for ever chase
That flying and elusive shadow, rest.
An air of coolness plays upon his face,
And an unwonted calm pervades his breast.
And then he thinks he knows
The hills where his life rose,
And the sea where it goes.
The language is gorgeous, and the theme is universal, the foundation of memorable poetry. Away from my parents, away from everything my world was, I have since taken time for myself. It is so so important to worship your needs and your desires. For me, what beauty arises from a coffee and a good book!
As I've finished all my assigned readings for this semester, there is room on the bookshelf for the art of pure enjoyment. I am perusing through Pablo Neruda, but am now faithful to Dorian Gray. If I feel depressingly enough, I'll start Wuthering Heights.
