In Defense of English Majors (and good movies)

Let it be known to all: I am paying homage to a Romantic Poet on my blog. The English nerd in me is taking over.

In my Romanticism class, we will be studying 5 poets. Thankfully we've already gotten Blake out of the way, and we are so far behind the syllabus that apparently we will be practically skipping Shelley, and Byron might be cut short as well. But I can be certain my English teacher will provide ample time for John Keats, even if he is the last poet on the syllabus and therefore most likely to lose face time due to our inability to keep up with the schedule. I know Keats won't be cut short because on the first day of class, our teacher gave us a brief summary of each poet we would be studying. He laughed about Blake, the purported poet-prophet, smiled at the thought of Wordsworth's ego, and stumbled through the oddities of Shelley and Byron. When he arrived at Keats, however, his demeanor changed. He reverently talked about a man who had left such an indelible poetic mark in his short 25 years. Even my teacher realized how strangely reverent and still he had become while talking about Keats; as he came out of his quiet reverie, he shook his head, laughed and said: "Wow. I feel like I've just borne my testimony." He likes Keats that much.

So last night I went to see the movie Bright Star. (This is where my seeming over-exaggeration comes in.) I think I can honestly say that it is the best movie I have ever seen. Quite simply, it moved me. It touched me with its tragic beauty and there is no turning back.

In his Epilogue to An Experiment on Criticism, C.S. Lewis says that we read literature because "we seek an enlargement of our being. We want to be more than ourselves... We want to see with other eyes, to imagine with other imaginations, to feel with other hearts, as well as with our own." He further says that "those of us who have been true readers all our life seldom fully realise the enormous extension of our being which we owe to authors." He says the unliterary man "may be full of goodness and good sense but he inhabits a tiny world. In it, we should be suffocated. The man who is contented to be only himself, and therefore less a self, is in prison. My own eyes are not enough for me, I will see through those of others."

I agree with Lewis: perhaps that is why I'm an English major. I read to be enlarged. To see with more than just my own eyes and feel with more than just my own heart. After seeing Bright Star, I thought immediately of how this movie enabled me to "feel with other hearts, as well as with [my] own." This movie gave me the simple capacity to feel more than I ever have. Each scene was so beautiful, the recitations of Keats's poems so sincere, the growing love and tragedy so poignant that by the end of the movie, I was awestruck. I couldn't speak or pull myself out of my seat (even after watching the all the credits roll to the sound of Keats's "Ode to a Nightingale") because I was so impressed, so utterly moved. The movie was beautiful, the actors were fantastic, the music was perfect, the poetry was incredible, and the story itself, without any help from Hollywood, is about as painfully beautiful as any you can find.

I drove home from the movie in reverential silence because no music beautifully enough fit my frame of mind. I got to my apartment thinking, I want the soundtrack--wouldn't it be amazing if they had some of his poetic recitations on it? No... They probably wouldn't do that. And to my luck, they did. I happily fell asleep to the gentle cadence of Ben Whishaw's voice, but only after several hours (and this movie ended at 12:30) because I could not slow my thoughts or my feelings down. As I listened (and have continuously been listening) to the soundtrack, I re-lived the movie in my head with stunning vignettes of John and Fanny walking through Hampstead Heath. Still, I can't get the elegance of words or imagery out of my head.

I have been reading, re-reading; listening and re-listening to Keat's poems all day and I think I have found a new passion.

That is why, on days like these, I am absolutely proud to be an English major. Because "my eyes are not enough for me, I will see through those of others." Even if that includes the poignant tragedy of John Keats's life. In literature I have sought an enlargement of being, and this movie has given it to me.

That is the power of great art; it enlarges, enabling us to be more than ourselves. To Keats and all such authors, I have now realized the enormous extension of my being which I owe to you. Thanks.