Sunday, December 17, 2017

The Dynamics Of Dreams, Darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


                         The night before last I had one of my what I call "pattern" dreams, which are situations that repeat themselves in my consciousness.  David thinks they are anxiety dreams, and, in my current time, they could very well be, what with the approach of Christmas, combined with the declining health of my 102-year-old father.

                         My pattern dream, earlier in life, was based, of course, on "The Wizard Of Oz."  Things would happen in the same way--a window would hit me, I would get knocked on the bed, the cyclone would vanish, the house would tumble down.  Then, just as it hit the ground--I would always awaken.

                          The only difference was the house in my dream was not the movie one, but my actual house, the one I was raised in.  Talk about escape; it clearly indicated how early I wanted to escape from the small town banality of suburban life, how I was superior to it, etc.  But, in my dream, which of course was in black and white (I had not seen the sepia version yet!) I never got to open that door into that Technicolor land.  Or had any idea of what would be beyond it, if I actually did open it.  Munchkinland, as in the movie?  Or something else?  Who knows?

                           The scary thing is if my Munckinland was Manhattan, that would give a scary credibility to the botched film version of "The Wiz," with that way over aged B-I-T-C-H, Diana Ross, playing Dorothy.

                            I believe these dreams stopped, after I graduated high school.  How telling is that?
                            What replaced the 'Oz' dream, and has plagued me since post high school, is what I call "the AP English Dream."  I never took AP in high school, not because I was not qualified, but who in Highland Park cared enough about me to steer me into it?  No one; those bitches.  The irony is, once I got to college, after my first week of Freshman English, the instructor recognized I was way ahead of the others, did not need it, and put me in two Senior Honors Courses--Contemporary Literature,where we read things like "Lucky Jim," by Kingsley Amis, "The Centaur," by John Updike, and, of course, "Herzog," by Saul Bellow) and Introduction To Literary Criticism, where we studied critical theory, while reading "Green Hills Of Africa," by Hemingway, and "The Masters," by C.P. Snow, among others!

                             I was in heaven.  And I graduated, with honors.  But I never forgot the stigma I was dealt in being denied AP English.  The dream, which until the other night, would go in one of several ways.

                               I would be in senior homeroom.  I was given my class schedule.  AP English was not on it, and I was affronted.  In one version, I am heading to the administration/counseling office, determined to correct this mistake.  In another, I am going to the English Department office, or offices, to confront the instructors there, on this egregious error.  In a third version, even though it is not on my schedule, I have decided I am going to take the class, anyway, even if I only audit it, for spite!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               The version the other night went a little differently.  I stormed into the English Department offices, demanding I take AP English, only to be told I was not good enough.  In this dream I challenge the instructors face on, spouting theoretical rhetoric and quotes from classics I have read on my own.  Then, I march out, look at them, behind me, and say, "I am going to find a lawyer, and file a discrimination suit against your department!"

                               Which was a turn this dream NEVER took before. I wonder why.  I wish I had had the fortitude to do this, back when I was in high school.

                                 Despite all my achievements, I have never gotten over not taking AP English.  And if there was a way I could now, I would.

                                 But, wait till you hear this, girls!   In my day, AP English meant "A Portrait Of The Artist, As A Young Man," by James Joyce, and "The Sound And The Fury," by William Faulkner.  Out of curiosity, I went online, to see what is being offered in AP English at my high school these days.

                                   How things have dumbed down.  You know what they read in AP now?

                                    1. Lord Of The Flies, by William Golding
                                     2. The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald
                                     3. The Grapes Of Wrath, by John Steinbeck
                                     4. 1984, by George Orwell

                                       Are you kidding me?  THIS is AP?  I read all of these books before I reached my senior year; we did Dickens and Homer in my sophomore year.  Orwell's "1984." in my time, was what was given to the senior remedials in my time!  The DUMB kids!  And now it is AP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       During that first week of Freshman English in college, I was bored by the second session.  I thought it was too easy, and felt guilty about it, before the professor wisely intervened.  If I were to take my high school's AP course today, I would feel the same way.

                                        Where is Dickens, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky?

                                         Why are teachers afraid to challenge students?  Why are both teachers and students afraid of length?

                                           And THIS is college level?  What does that say about the decline of higher education?

                                           I may have reaped all the benefits of AP without having to take it, but this issue still bugs me!

                                           No wonder I relate to Savannah Wingo, in "The Prince Of Tides."

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