Because I learned more.

“Don't lies eventually lead to the truth? And don't all my stories, true or false, tend toward the same conclusion? Don't they all have the same meaning? So what does it matter whether they are true or false if, in both cases, they are significant of what I have been and what I am? Sometimes it is easier to see clearly into the liar than into the man who tells the truth. Truth, like light, blinds. Falsehood, on the contrary, is a beautiful twilight that enhances every object.” 
― Albert Camus, The Fall

As the semester closes, I feel the need to write a little more about what I have learned in Lit 285. I wrote my final paper on the insight that this class has given me into the significance of storytelling to humanity as it was a strong theme in this class which was new to me and lured me in; however, many other things from this temperate classroom will stick with me as well.

We’ll start at the end as that is how my impressions have compounded and been left.

In the end, I learned about what we have learned. I've enjoyed my classmates’ presentations, and have found the various takes on the information presented this semester incredibly insightful. Though there are some things that we all seemed to take home; everyone had something to add to our collective recollection of knowledge. I also learned, when writing what I have learned, that the intimacy of sharing what I have learned with the rest of the class made writing my paper much more difficult. I could hear how personal these things were to my fellow classmates through their final presentations as well. It seems the things which we covered in this class, being very relative to our lives, are quite personal in nature.

In the end, I learned that maybe the truth doesn't really matter; that maybe an even realer truth lies veiled within our lies, tales and fantasies. I learned that there’s a joy in the mysteries of life and that sometimes not knowing is better than being disappointed. I remembered the willing suspension of disbelief and that “someday” never comes and that if you’re not moving forward, you’re regressing towards a state of stagnation and death. And I learned about the saving power of fiction, which has always been dear to my heart.

My grandfather has always been one of my heroes. He’s fearless and kind and I remember always loving and admiring his personal life stories and his library. I remember as a kid, always thinking how cool it was that my grandpa was one of the smartest people I knew and he hadn't even graduated high school. His library was filled with hundreds of books on history, astronomy, classic literature, poetry and more; every one of which he had read completely and most more than once. My grandpa gave me the very first book he ever bought and read. He was seventeen years old and had just dropped out of high school and joined the Navy during World War II. He was stationed in Hawaii and bought the book  – I can only imagine, as he's never told me  – to kill some time and distract himself. The book is called “Lone Cowboy” by Will James, and is a story about a cowboy’s adventures in the northern plains. I love that book and am afraid to read it before I have it restored because it is old and crumbly and I don’t want to destroy it; but I love to think about how an adventure tale with pictures in it changed my grandpa’s life and inspired him to become the self-educated, wise old man he is today.

In the end, I remembered that stories add years to your life. And I learned that when everything falls to pieces, you dance. I always thought that you laughed when everything fell to pieces, but I suppose either would work just as well. I learned that our final assignment beyond this class is to be interesting, and remembered how important it is to be interesting. And when we were told to be interesting, it reminded me of a quote from a song that I hadn't heard in years but has stuck with me since high school. I couldn't remember who sang it or how the song went, but “if you’re bored then you must be boring too” stuck in my mind because I had always loved and believed the line. I had to look it up online and found a song called “Just a Simple Plan” by a band named Piebald that I hadn't listened to in at least seven years. As I listened to it and remembered the lyrics, I was taken back to a different time and place that I hadn't thought much about in a while. I went to a Piebald concert with my brother and his pregnant wife when we were all practically babies and I was going to hair school, living in St. George Utah with them and my oldest niece Olivia. Listening to the song while sitting at my computer in my warm office and staring out the window at an entirely different world from then, all the confused thoughts and emotions of that time in my life came rushing back to me like I was still there now. In the end, I remembered how music, pictures, and stories can often mean so much more than we can ever even dream of putting into words.

In the end, I remembered that life is just a succession of suffering; and that no one makes it out without scars; and that in the end, we all die alone. I remembered that “It takes two people to make you, and one people to die. That’s how the world is going to end.” (Faulkner, As I Lay Dying) I learned that rape is commonplace and that we like to blame the gods for our problems. I learned to think about the things that we've forgotten and that our lives our drowning in references to our history and mythology in places most of us do not realize they exist.

To be honest, in the end, I learned and remembered so much that half of it is already eluding me again.

Now in the last week of class, I’m very glad that I randomly decided to take Lit 285 – it was not a class I needed though it fulfilled a requirement – though I must admit that I do regret that I will not be able to take any other classes from Michael Sexson. It was a pleasure, for sure, and I’m glad to at least have pages of notes and my blog to remind me of the innumerable things I've learned and remembered in Mythologies this fall. 

Thanks for the semester, Dr. Sexson.