Life’s a Book
Those of you who are avid book readers understand this: The stories we love invade our lives - in our thoughts, in our speech, and in our experiences. Great novels have infiltrated my life in many forms, some planned, some spontaneous. Here are a few planned story experiences I’ve had: rolling into the Hundred-acre Wood at Disney World’s Pooh ride or taking a stroll through Hogsmeade at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter World. Most recently, I attended an Alice in Wonderland Gin and Tea Party event even though I’m not much of a gin or tea drinker, but it gave me a chance to dress up like the white rabbit and listen to the wild ramblings of the Mad Hatter in a Wonderland themed room. But it’s the unplanned book infiltrations that are the most powerful I think. And here’s one that brought elements of two classics into one odd experience.
I’m an English professor and during the pandemic I taught all but one of my courses online. But during Spring ‘21, I was offered the opportunity to return to campus to teach an in-person, once a week, three-hour, night class. I jumped at the offer because I prefer teaching in person, feel the class outcomes for many students are stronger, and frankly, was tired of working via computer screen. So, while I was happy to be up-close with students again, the experience was a bit odd. I would teach two other classes on the computer at home, and then have to drive onto campus for my night class. My students and I were all masked, and also it seemed that we were the only class being held on campus during that time. The large building the class was in was very quiet. The campus grounds were very dark and mostly vacant, except for a few security and administrative workers which we rarely encountered. I think I saw another college employee only about three times during the whole semester.
One night, I headed over to the campus after my ENC 1102 class in which at the time I was teaching Wuthering Heights. I got to my classroom building and realized I needed to get a book out of my office, so I stepped out of the building’s back entrance to go to where my office was which was on the other side of the campus. I ran there because it was far, and also because of the creepiness of the dark and empty campus grounds. I was headed back to my classroom’s building when a boom of thunder and a rush of wind made me realize that a storm was coming. Florida is known for its often quick and strong storms, and this was going to be one of those. The wind suddenly became strong; the tree branches were swaying wildly, and fallen leaves had been swept up into a whirlwind of air giving the impression that a tornado had either formed or was forming. The intensity of the wind and a sudden howling as air rushed through a corridor of buildings and trees, frightened me as I rushed to the back of the double-glass doors to enter the building. I swiped my door entry card, and nothing. The door wouldn’t open. I became frightened, wondering if I was going to be picked up in a tornado like Dorothy of the Wizard of Oz. I started pounding on the double doors, “Let me in!” I yelled. “Let me in!” But no one was in the area of the building that I was trying to get into, and if there was someone in the building they did not hear me. I was contemplating whether to hit the ground (get low) or try running across to the other side of the building, when the winds quickly died down and the rain subsided. Then it hit me, as I made my way over the side of the building to go around to the front entrance. I realized I had just experienced a “book” moment. Not only had I felt like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, but like Cathy’s young Ghost in Wuthering Heights, I had pounded on glass yelling, “Let me in! Let me in!”