I have to admit I'm astonished that you would tell this story.  You did not,
by the way, "receive" an A; you took one by cheating--quite a different
thing. I can only hope the young man's change of behavior had something
to do with belated shame.


Date sent:              Thu, 20 Feb 2003 16:04:09 EST
Send reply to:          "T. S. Eliot Discussion forum." <[log in to unmask]>
From:                   Kate Troy <[log in to unmask]>
Subject:                Re: Wallace Stevens; was Mopius Louse)
To:                     [log in to unmask]

In a message dated 2/20/2003 1:02:30 AM Eastern Standard Time,
[log in to unmask] writes:

>
> I don't know which poem you mean by "old language."  If you mean the
> Braid Scots, it is as old and as new as English.  If you mean the
> opening to "On A Raised Beach" below, you must be very up on geology and
> rocks if you find it easy.  But it is incredible language.
>

I actually am into geology and rocks.  I'm somewhat of a naturalist, and,
in fact, have read all of Gavin Maxwell's works. But, this hasn't always
been the case.  You inspire me to relate an anecdote about myself, and I'm
sure none of the college professors on the List will appreciate it much,
but I'll tell it anyway.  This happened back when I was in college.  As an
English Major in the Liberal Arts course, I was forced to take a year of
science in order to obtain my degree.  I wasn't interested in science at
the time at all, which attitude is strange to me now.  Anyway, I took the
easiest science courses available, Weather and Climate, and then
Geology.
I managed to get through Weather and Climate with quite a good grade, a
B.
 Then came geology.
 I simply wasn't into it. I had a full social life at the time.  I
 remember
our first test.  The professor handed us five different types of rocks and
told us to name the types of rocks they were on our test paper.  I looked
at them and at the paper.  I hadn't a clue.  There was a young man sitting
next to me who noted my distress.  He had finished the test in about a
minute.  He smiled at me and moved the paper so that I could see his five
answers.  They became my five answers.  As we were leaving class, he
approached me and asked me to go to lunch with him.  I was young at the
time; that must be my excuse for saying no to his invitation.  Okay, so he
wasn't the best looking young man, but he was certainly intelligent and I
probably would liked him much. Anyway, I received an "A" on that test, of
course, but the young man who had assisted me would not sit next to me
again; he was evidently hurt by my refusal to lunch with him and sat after
that way across the room.  My continued lack of interest and application
in rocks resulted in my withdrawing from the course rather than receive a
substandard mark.  Such is life at 20.