Or, my working life comes to an end, 1972-2025
Me the other day, taken by Izzy
Dear friends,
All the important events of my life, or turning points have occurred within me, or made very little splash in the material world. When at age 19 sitting on a park bench I told my friend, Brenda, my life’s goal was somehow to spend my life reading and writing — I am still friends with Brenda, first through facebook, then emails, my visit to her shortly after Jim died (like me she then went to college, became a Ph.D, like me widowed after long marriage, but unlike in having remarried). My marriage to Jim in 1969 in Leeds Registry office took less than 5 minutes. We wore ordinary clothes, or I prefer to not remember how we tried to dress up just a little (foolish bad taste). When in 1983 we decided to move into this house, despite it being in bad shape. When I completed my translation of all Vittoria Colonna’s poems in 1991 and Jim took me out to dinner, ditto my findings toward an edition of Anne Finch’s poetry.
And now I told myself and announced to my daughters I have retired for real at long last — after 53 years of working most of the time as an English teacher (yes I was an English major), on independent scholarly projects, (from 1995) along with a full literary life on the Internet. I cannot retire altogether, or from teaching or communicating in this imagined and real cyberspace companionship because I cannot stop living and I lost my beloved companion of 45 years 11 years ago. But I can cut down all that presses on me as hard work. I have done and am doing that. Yesterday morning I handed back 4 review assignments I had promised to do and was finding too much for me; I asked one of the general editors at Scriblerian to erase my name as editor for Austen books & essays. Without the modified or curtailed teaching classes to teach and companionship of zoom classes, I would be all alone with no set-up relationships. Right now I am involved in only one group read, of a book I’ve read at least 3 times before, the restored Duke’s Children by Anthony Trollope. All my teaching will be of books known well, taught before and/or loved. Only one preparation each semester.
I also at long last will just please myself: I love women’s novels, memoirs best of all am interested in a very old-fasione kind of feminist literary history (comes from 1970s/80s) when hardly anyone else is, and more modern feminist literary criticism, I love historical novels by women. So now I’ll have the time. It will forever remain a puzzle why so few women readers are
Fiona sleeping among my books in bedroom corner near me
Since my second, this time mini-stroke this past October, most of my social life is through emails, FB, Blue Sky, and zooms at 3 OLLIs, Politics & Prose, Cambridge online programs — because my mobility is again severely compromised. My left leg is now downright lame, I can lose my balance (& must noot fall), am too weak to carry much. I can’t do any stairs. Metro access transfer does not begin to do what I would need. My left hand not able to type accurately, I do mental work at the same level, but very slowly. Indeed I can scarce keep up with the teaching by remote now. I had begun to realize I was killing myself by my schedule & trying to travel when I had that first stroke.
Elinor arching, on Izzy’s bed in her peacefulroom
I had the exquisite pleasure of not having to do anything Saturday morning — after I finished answering friends and acquaintances, fellow readers by e-mail. Not that I didn’t spend the day reading & writing. But I had my needed daily nap at 4 and then relaxed into the for me deep pleasure of Gabaldon’s third Outlander book, Voyager, reading slowly, and then Vera Brittaine’s bravely eloquent feminist depiction of marriage in her novel, The Honorable Estate. Evening I watched White Bird, admittedly an assignment in my Movie of the Week course at OLLI at Mason. During day I sat with my kittens, I exercised, I hope to get to my World of Jane Austen puzzle in the early evenings soon
World of Jane Austen puzzle
It’s one o’clock, time to go to bed.
Ellen