Last night, I finished my reading of Ayn Rand’s novel Anthem. It was a timely finish for two reasons: First of all, my gifted students had “requested” to read it over the weekend so we could discuss it today; and second of all, I finished before 8:00 p.m. so I could watch the HBO series, Rome. I am completely addicted to that series. I’ve always been fascinated with ancient Roman history, and this series–though admittedly the writers get some of their facts wrong–has an edge and puts human faces (some of them very pretty) to men and women of history. Back to Anthem.

I’m wondering how Anthem will affect my gifted students. I am confident it will in some way, but I’m not sure what theme will most get to them. Will it be the fact that the protagonist dared to love the woman of his choice in a loveless world? (The romance of the “Golden One” and “The Unconquered One,” who later call themselves Gaea and Prometheus, is a touching romance.) Will my students appreciate books more? The power of science? Will they understand the potential cruelty of man and the devastating power of ignorance?

Maybe at least the novel will motivate them to have the courage to “stand alone.”

The Sons of Confederate Veterans march every year in W. Monroe-Monroe’s annual Mardi Gras Parade. This year, the weather was great–quite cool, but clear–and the crowd was huge. I haven’t heard an estimated number of the crowd yet. We fired a boatload of blank bullets as we marched the six mile route, drawing cheers from the crowd every time we fired a volley. Along with the 39 men toting muskets, there were three trailers playing music, two bearing a cannon each (though we no longer are able to fire the cannon, as they set off too many car alarms) and we had a great host of flag and banner bearers both men and women in Antebellum dresses. In their coverage of the event, I was told the local TV news station even included a shot of me marching. Once again, I am a TV star.

This part of Louisiana is a Confederate friendly area, and I would say that over 90% of the crowd were enthusiastic and supportive of us, the men wearing the gray and bearing the Battle Flag; 7% of the crowd were ambivalent; and only a very few, perhaps 3%, were hostile. Most of those were quite intoxicated, and judging by their vocabulary, not the type who read books or know history and who are not likely to show up on Jeopardy or any game show that requires a demonstration of knowledge.

After we marchers returned to our vehicles, a few of us went to Bennigans for burgers and pints of Guinness. I thought about why we do this marching, and when I see the excitement of the crowds, I know: Southerners love their heritage, and they like being reminded of it. When they look at us marching, in our period costumes, firing our muskets in a salute to them and to our history, they are once again connected to a rich past, to their ancestors and they feel pride in being a Southerner.

By the way, Yankee Civil War reenactors very seldom march in parades in the South. There must be a reason . . .

My gifted seniors are reading and doing a project on Cormac McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses. As I love this novel, I am very excited. There’s not a great deal of scholarly material on McCarthy readily available yet, but at least it is increasing. I’m going to have them create a map of John Grady Cole’s journeys, research the topic of Americans in Mexican prisons (a depressing topic to be sure, but one we need to think about), study and learn the Spanish phrases in the text, take a test (prepared by me) on the novel, and write a five-page research paper on the novel. Should be a busy two weeks. But they’re gifted, and they can do it. More on this great novel later.

This Saturday, I’ll be marching with my friends in the Sons of Confederate Veterans in the West Monroe-Monroe Louisiana Mardi Gras Parade. It’s about a five mile march, and I’ll shoot my musket, be in Confederate uniform, and have a grand time. The crowd has been extremely receptive, with only a few being assholes and giving us a hard time. These few don’t really bother me, as I know they probably just need a history lesson. I’m going to work the SCV booth in W. Monroe during the day Saturday (Feb. 10) and then march with the boys. Lineup is at 4:00 pm. If you’re there, look for me. I’ll be the rebel soldier with the long hair. God bless the South. If you would like a pic of me in my Confederate uniform, write me and I’ll send you one. rickeyp@bayou.com.

Having started a study of Ayn Rand’s Anthem in my first period gifted class, I find myself pleasantly surprised. I and my students are learning much from this exercise. I think I could classify this novel as dystopian, and since we had already studied Animal Farm and Fahrenheit 451, my young scholars are picking up the “ideas” of this novel quickly.

As you likely know, the novel’s protagonist lives in a world of the collective we. There is no I. He had separated himself from the “mindless human herd” in that terrible world he lived in. I think this is extremely relevant for my students as they too live in an age that ostracizes and persecutes individuality. Being smart, being passionate, being anything different from the status quo will cause one to pay a terrible price.  Gifted teachers are trained to notice, encourage, and develop individual interests and talents, but in this day of standardized tests, we are not really encouraged to do so. In addition, the apathy and ignorance of this present age is so deep that I wonder what can be done to reverse it. To borrow the wording of Anthem‘s back cover, I don’t want my students to grow up in or live in a “world that deprives individuals of name, independence and values.”

I’m sure I will write more about this book in later posts.

Confession: I have never read Ayn Rand’s books. When I was able recently to obtain a free class set of Anthem, and a free class set of The Fountainhead (on the condition that I actually teach both the novels) I jumped for the opportunity.  We actually began a study of Anthem today in my first period (Gifted English Class, 9th and 10th graders). I introduced the book with a short lecture on Rand’s life and introduced her philosophy of Objectivism. I will introduce The Fountainhead to my 4th period gifted students the same way.

I plan on working through the books in class, a chapter a day if possible I know it is slow, tedious work doing that, but it is a good way for me to learn these works myself, and I can construct a test as I go along. This kind of read-aloud time also makes for good discussion (at least with gifted kids). Anthem is a novella, so I should complete it easily in this manner. The Fountainhead is much longer, and I’ll likely have to assign those readings, and it may take a little longer to complete the study. Oh, well.  The exciting part of this exercise is I know I will learn some things. I already have. More on Rand later. If you’d like to know more about Rand, go to this site:

http://www.ayn-rand.com/ayn-rand-bio.asp

I just finished going through my year’s receipts to get my taxes prepared by my CPA. It always amazes me as to how expensive being a writer can be. The amount I spent on copies, postage, writing supplies, travel, and books astounded me. Once again, just for laughs, I asked myself the rhetorical question of why I subject myself to this brutal business of writing. I believe it’s because I truly do find happiness in writing.

I’m currently reading Erica Jong’s, Parachutes and Kisses, and as in all her books I’ve read so far, she has much to say about writing. On page 86, she talks of how Isadora’s writing is being crowded out by the mad rush of her life, by worries of making money, etc. She speaks of how a writer must find her/his center, and that can only be found within. She quotes Sebastien Chamfort, the noted conversationalist, aphorist, supporter and critic of the French Revolution who said: “Happiness is difficult to find within, impossible to find elsewhere.”

It’s taken for granted that writers should read, but when I find good thoughts like this, I see why I must read. I needed that thought, that reminder. So, I’ve resolved once again to settle down on my writing center, and really try to get some things done.

It’s the time of year when I must prepare taxes. I fill out a long form, so it means wading through my year of receipts and papers, organizing my claimed deductions by topic, and then getting it to my CPA to file. Tomorrow will be a long day, and it does take me at least whole day to complete my portion of the work. Yet, this work is a necessary part of the writing business.

I’ve looked in vain on the net for the origin of the phrase “the taxman cometh.” If any of my readers know, do write me at rickeyp@bayou.com and share that information with me. I’ve always been interested in the etymology of words and the origin of phrases. When I find where the phrase came from or who first said it, I’ll post it here.

The Battleground Ground Louisiana series that I will be the facilitator for in Winnsboro, Louisiana, begins in Ferbruary. One of the books I’ll be using is When the Devil Came Down to Dixie: Ben Butler in New Orleans, written by Chester G. Hearn. General Butler is one of the most vilified individuals in the Civil War. He is known as a brazen opportunist, a bungling administrator, and a cruel despot. The Southern women of New Orleans particularly disliked him, and he and his Federal officers were met with insults, spit, and even dumped chamber pots from balcony windows. Women who played piano would only play rebel tunes when a Yankee passed their house. Butler was incensed, so he issued the infamous Order 28, which read:

As the officers and soldiers of the United States have been subject to repeated insults from the women (calling themselves ladies) of New Orleans in return for the most scrupulous non-interference and courtesy on our part, it is ordered that hereafter when any female shall by word, gesture, or movement insult or show contempt for any officer or soldier of the United States she shall be regarded and held liable to be treated as a woman of the town plying her avocation.

This decree only worsened the feelings of New Orleans women for him and his staff in occupied New Orleans. As Hearn correctly points out, in the South, nothing was more sacred than the honor of a woman. Photographs of Butler were distributed through the city and pasted to the bottom of tinkle-pots. You can see a photograph of one of these chamber pots here: http://www3.flickr.com/photos/deepfriedkudzu/sets/72057594060734949/.

Butler well deserved the nickname given him: Beast Butler.

I love quotations, and I found a good one by one of the better emperors of the Roman Empire, Marcus Aurelius. He said: A person’s life is dyed with the color of his imagination—Marcus Aurelius (AD 121-180).

I find this an apt quotation for writers, teachers, and the gifted students I instruct. Our imagination truly colors our world.  Just think about it—our imagination is connected to our Muse, to our inventions, our discoveries, and our world view.  I have found in my own creative writing that the better my imagination (my own inner theatre) the richer and more exciting my writing will be.  One web site I found that dealt with imagination said it well: What we imagine with faith and feeling comes into being. Imagination can be nurtured or crushed.

While I don’t want my students to become like Espinosa in Borges’ “The Gospel According to Mark,” about a man with an undirected intelligence, neither do I want their creative, exploratory urges dampened or stifled. Reflecting on this quotation by Marcus Aurelius (and I do intend to read his Twelve Meditations someday) made me realize the importance of my own imagination to my creative writing.  The daily grind of working in our salt mines, the cares and necessities of life, the responsibilities to care for others that we cannot avoid—these demons can drain the energy that imagination must feed upon.