Written by Adria Giles
Once a month, the English department hosts a luncheon in which thosein attendance discuss what they’ve read recently.
It’s lovely because that is what we do anyway, stopping in stairwells and lurking in low-lit alcoves to converse about Sarah Waters and Salman Rushdie and to mention which classic we’ve finally gotten around to reading and wondering why we had not read it sooner.
This month, I am at a loss for what book to bring to the luncheon. The obvious choice would be something by Ernest Hemingway. I have just finished my senior symposium on one of his short stories, which necessitated I read three of his books and a couple hundred pages of biography and critical analyses. I was practically dating him, except it was neverFacebook-official. My need to immerse myselfin the literature of Hemingway caused me to fall into his world like Alice toppling heels-over- head into a bizarre alter reality. In Hemingway’s world, all are doomed. His characters would never be so extravagant as Miss America as to desire world peace but instead have learned to economize with small pockets of personal tranquility. Picture a ragtag group of people huddling in the eye of a hurricane.
As it happened, the weather in Arkansas has been extremely melancholy lately. Sure, it was winter for a while, but to me theweather seems to have been rather a poor sport the past few weeks when it should have been spring. I can excuse cold weather before spring break, but bad weather following spring break suggests moodiness and maladjustment on the part of Arkansas.
The coupling of bad weather with Hemingway’s depressing mindset bearing down on me caused me to feel out of sorts and unpleasant. I needed sunshine and a relief from weighty thoughts, but I had no time for Disney movies or diverting literature.
The other night I had a spontaneous midnight chat with my roommates and it led us to reminiscing about the “Sweet Valley Twins” series, which we had read and loved when we were kids. The series follows Jessica and Elizabeth, identical twins with opposite interests. The world of “SweetValley”isrifewithdrama about boys, clothes, friends and the school newspaper.
Visits to two Goodwill stores yielded me eight non-sequential “Sweet Valley” books. I was delighted and my roommates were thrilled. I’m not calling thebooks chapel-length, but each can be read in under an hour, making them perfect for an odd opening in my day.
In my favorite of the books so far, a girl named Ginny Lu moves from rustic Tennessee to suave Sweet Valley, Calif. With her red pigtails, Smokies accent and gingham dresses, she doesn’t fit in until she saves the life of her archenemy’s horse. In another book, Jessica and Elizabeth accidentally swap boyfriends and are unhappy until they pretend to be each other and get their proper boyfriends back. An average day in “Sweet Valley.”
Because the “Sweet Valley” books are entirely without art, I couldn’t possibly mention them in the English luncheon. It would be tacky, like bringing up “Twilight.” Hemingway, on the other hand, is always welcome among students of literature, but I have grown tired of him.
I’m sad to see the end of my relationship with Hemingway, or “Hem”as I like to call him,but it’s for the best. He was smothering me. The weather is warming up and I’m moving through sunnier, sweeter valleys now. I only hope I will at last be able to read that classic for which I’ve always been too busy.
ADRIA GILES is a guest contributor for the Bison. She may be contacted atagiles@harding.edu
