An Homage to a writer

1. Introduction

Textbooks are not my friends. The long, dry explanation of how planets are formed or the irrelevant descriptions of advertising techniques from twenty years ago not only put me to sleep, they irritate me—I do not, and will not, care about chlorophyll. Sorry. So with this attitude toward assigned readings, I do not come to expect the occasional treasures that we students stumble upon. But when it happens, when that special excerpt grips your eyes and quickens you heart so that you can keep up with the words, you’re a changed student.

For me, that change occurred with a travel book.

Almost twenty pages long, Elizabeth Gilbert’s account of her two week trip in France mesmerized me, made me laugh, and made me want more. Her insightful little anecdotes (we can call these elaborate experience accounts, to keep in the textbook fashion) created an environment in which I actually wanted to do my homework. What a novel idea. I only hoped the rest of the story would prove to be as delightful.

2. Body

And it was.

The rest of her narrative (fluidly alternating between sensory descriptions, opinion, and thought fragments) gave me a clear picture of France. And I want to go there now. The food, the people, the places, the food. It all created an experience that Gilbert enjoyed so much that her piece seemed effortless. And did I mention the food? It sounded fantastic.

The story about the waiter, whom she could only describe as “he cared,” served as the fulcrum to many of her astute observations about the country. France, a country known for its “Frenchitude,” does not necessarily produce warm thoughts for many foreigners. But that’s not the experience Gilbert narrated. She created a different France, one in which bakers were the local artists, matrons were, well, matronly, and life was experienced through food and good conversation, not a clock. Her encounters with the people painted a sleepy, light-hearted place that somehow made you weep or chuckle. Not to mention the circus debacle, which if it didn’t make you laugh, you probably don’t have a soul.

Well that sounds harsh, but seriously, it was raucously entertaining. And that’s how Gilbert played it for much of the piece.

3. Reflections

I finished the story (glowing with pride at my accomplishment, sad that it ended) and sighed. Why couldn’t my other readings for the evening be as fun? But, alas, such is the fate of the College Student, a non-too rare breed that trudges through pages upon pages, rarely stopping to see the gems for what they are. Luckily for me, Gilbert didn’t give much of a choice—I liked it before I could help myself. Now if only Dr. Sam Schneider of Biological Development in Amoebas could do the same…