Fatalistic Fanaticism

The Once and Future Rush Wall

As you've no doubt noted from various posts on this humble blog, I'm no stranger to obsession. I enjoy being swept up in those heady tides, but I've been known to seriously get on the nerves of those around me as I offer up obscure Rush trivia or observations about the American Civil War...
So, naturally, I have a soft spot for obsessive characters in literature (though I should, no doubt, learn something from the fact that they always meet a bad end...)

I shall begin with Captain Ahab, here represented by the inimitable Patrick Stewart, joined by the composition of his leg to the inward make of his foe and willing to join him in the deeps if it means his defeat. I first read Moby Dick in a literary theory class that took place from 7-9 on Wednesday nights. The instructor and I loathed each other and came to a sort of unspoken agreement that I wouldn't come and argue with his pet theories (mostly Freudian, mostly disgusting) and he would ignore my absence. The Norton annotated edition of Moby Dick was a sort of silver lining to the whole thing, delighting me with its humor, its emphasis on (wrongheaded) natural history, and its hints at domesticity between Ishmael (or whoever he is) and Queequeg. I still return to sail the seas with Ishmael and company every few winters or so!

My relationship with King Lear also features a professor - the wonderful and wacky Professor Taylor who once taught a course that included only me, his words whisking me away to all the places he had traveled. He was also my professor for Shakespeare, where he once paid me the compliment of saying, "Miss K recognizes this poetry [in Romeo and Juliet] as terrible poetry, because she writes fine poetry herself." He introduced me to Lear and to the saddest line in iambic pentameter: "Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing!" -- and I've been teaching the play ever since. I left it out of my recent Shakespeare class because I tend to teach it in British Literature, but I missed it so much that I had to read it anyway and to think about Lear's need for love and respect ultimately stripping him of everything, leaving "nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing." I've chosen to represent the poor king with one of my favorite actors, Ian McKellen. Since he plays opposite of Stewart in X-Men, I didn't think he would mind the company! I do hope dear Professor Taylor knew how much he meant to me, but, if not, I look forward to telling him one say, as he once said to me, "When I am gone, I will spend half my time here, half my time in Oxford, and half of my time in other garden spots. And if you don't understand how that will work, Miss, then you know nothing at all about ghosts!" If his wandering spirit ever drops in for tea (mine is probably best enjoyed by those who can no longer taste anyway) I will be ready with many new literary observations!

An interesting fun fact about both titles: They can both be found on the bookshelf of another obsessive whose desires turn to his doom: Khan!

Khan's bookshelf from Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan

 

 

To this list, I would add the exalted company of Dorian Gray, Lucifer in Paradise Lost, and Faust in Marlowe's Dr. Faustus - who is led to hell by books! There's a warning there, I'm certain... but I won't be heeding it!

The road to damnation?