Recalled to Life

Why did I choose to major in English? I guess it boils down to words, words, words (man, I just can't stop with the Shakespeare).  I am fascinated by language:  its malleability, the sensuality of the spoken word, the layers of meaning.  In short, it is miraculous.  Words can bring us to tears, take us to dizzying heights of ecstasy, plunge us into despair, and lighten us with laughter.  How does the writer accomplish such feats?  We study literary devices and parse poetry, but is the soul of literary greatness knowable?  We have read a considerable amount of writing over the last three weeks. Some fun, some tragic, some not so great.  It's interesting to consider what modern works might stand the test of time and what will fall by the wayside.  I confess to not being terribly impressed by many of the post-modernists we read.  I think that it might come down to the final couplet in "Ode on a Grecian Urn":

 Beauty is truth, truth beauty--that is all

 Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know (49-50)

Art, in my opinion, should be beautiful.  Truth is beautiful.  "My Papa's Waltz" is a modern work that relates a sense of beauty in the midst of pain, but no one writes of this better than Dickens.  There is beauty in tragedy and sadness because they are true representations of the human condition, but there is always hope.  In A Tale of Two Cities, we weep for the sacrificial death of Sydney Carton, but we see the potential in humanity through the sacrifice.  We are "recalled to life."  It unifies us and gives us hope that does not disappoint.  On that note, I leave you with a song about hope that I wrote and recorded for my twin daughters.