For Whom the Bell Tolls
I've always thought that was a great title. For whom does the bell toll? It just makes one curious.
Lately I have been spending a lot more time with myself and I forgot how much fun I can be alone. For instance tonight I was lying in bed relishing a certain freedom I had experienced the other day and thought to myself, "How wonderful!" Then bells began to toll from one of the church steeples in our neighborhood. I love that sound. I wondered why I liked it so much and remembered that the Campanile on the Berkeley campus makes similar sounds every hour, on the hour (followed by a rip roaring carillon concert at noon and 6pm, always fantastic.) The 9am ring was my favorite because that was when I started my musicianship class. I would be singing my little solfege tunes and thinking of all my friends beginning their classes in whatever they were taking classes in, such as French, history, or in the sciences and math (what I like to call the happy land of exactitude). We were all separate but together, learning about great and wonderful things and just being merry. Or at least I was.
I love the idea of the university. Like all great modern ideas (the pre-modern university was something really different from what I understand), it was a German one thought up in the mind of one Alexander von Humboldt.* I attended his namesake's university in Berlin and it had lots of busts of great Germans all around the campus. I just looked through my box of Germany stuff to finally, after 5 years, organize it into a nice album (one of the things I've finally gotten around to because of my recent abundance of Miriam time). My first response to it all was, "Hmm. I was still so me back then." Then when Minho came home I ran into his arms, my soul clearly disheveled, and said, "Oh honey! All my old ideals are in that box!" A very Anneish thing to say. I could share those old ideals with you all but I want to keep them to myself. You understand, don't you? Anyway.
Keeping with the solitude theme, the year I was in Germany was a very quiet one. For the most part, I was my only companion. I did make a delicious Irish friend named Sarah Moore but we lost touch...** Though there are many sad things about being alone I experienced lots of very special things by myself that I wouldn't invite anyone into, such as _____ and _____ and _____. I'm smiling to myself because I know what goes in those blanks but if I share them they won't be as special. Okay just one, but not one of the three above. That spring I was taking a class called Deutsch-britische Beziehungen im zwangzigsten Jahrhundert. Yup, that's right: German-British Relations in the 20th Century. In case you didn't know, they were bad. There was a lot of arguing going on in class all the time so I decided to spend the hour commenting on my fellow classmates in my notebook. First of all, they were all tall. A good majority were the ideal Aryan with blond hair and blue eyes. There was a really cute girl who was always late that reminded me of Meg Ryan. She said a few really dumb comments though so I stopped writing about her. I had a slight crush on my professor. He was bald but had really cool glasses and wore a newsboy cap in the halls. I ended up hating him, though, because I went to talk to him once about a paper topic and he seemed very amused with me. Now I know that I'm a small little Asian girl but I don't find myself that amusing. Anyway. Listening to the lectures and the German students' opinions on what happened during the last century was a very savory thing for me because I love Germany and I love learning history. Doing so within stone's throw of where Hitler eventually poisoned himself, his wife, and his dog Blondi (the dog first just to make sure the poison actually worked) was ketchup on the meatloaf. These types of "history is alive" stories usually really annoy me, but it really was special. And nice. Alone in a room full of Nazi-descendants arguing about why they scorched Europe a couple years back.
So for whom does the bell toll? I don't think I will ever read the book, but this is my rundown, elementary school style:
For whom? For everyone who can hear. I think it still rings even if no one hears it.
For what? To remind them of something, give them information.
When? When they're listening.
Why? Because we will forget unless we're reminded.
How? This one's the mystery in my opinion.
*A couple other great modern ur-German ideas: 1) The printing press, by Gutenberg; 2) The reformation, by Luther; 3) Positivism, by Hegel (this one is great as in very influential, not necessary positive [hee hee]); 4) Post-Coco Chanel, by Karl Lagerfeld. That last one's for you, Unni.
**I hope to find her one day when I venture over to Ireland to drink myself to death whilst singing "Danny Boy" at the top of my lungs.
Lately I have been spending a lot more time with myself and I forgot how much fun I can be alone. For instance tonight I was lying in bed relishing a certain freedom I had experienced the other day and thought to myself, "How wonderful!" Then bells began to toll from one of the church steeples in our neighborhood. I love that sound. I wondered why I liked it so much and remembered that the Campanile on the Berkeley campus makes similar sounds every hour, on the hour (followed by a rip roaring carillon concert at noon and 6pm, always fantastic.) The 9am ring was my favorite because that was when I started my musicianship class. I would be singing my little solfege tunes and thinking of all my friends beginning their classes in whatever they were taking classes in, such as French, history, or in the sciences and math (what I like to call the happy land of exactitude). We were all separate but together, learning about great and wonderful things and just being merry. Or at least I was.
I love the idea of the university. Like all great modern ideas (the pre-modern university was something really different from what I understand), it was a German one thought up in the mind of one Alexander von Humboldt.* I attended his namesake's university in Berlin and it had lots of busts of great Germans all around the campus. I just looked through my box of Germany stuff to finally, after 5 years, organize it into a nice album (one of the things I've finally gotten around to because of my recent abundance of Miriam time). My first response to it all was, "Hmm. I was still so me back then." Then when Minho came home I ran into his arms, my soul clearly disheveled, and said, "Oh honey! All my old ideals are in that box!" A very Anneish thing to say. I could share those old ideals with you all but I want to keep them to myself. You understand, don't you? Anyway.
Keeping with the solitude theme, the year I was in Germany was a very quiet one. For the most part, I was my only companion. I did make a delicious Irish friend named Sarah Moore but we lost touch...** Though there are many sad things about being alone I experienced lots of very special things by myself that I wouldn't invite anyone into, such as _____ and _____ and _____. I'm smiling to myself because I know what goes in those blanks but if I share them they won't be as special. Okay just one, but not one of the three above. That spring I was taking a class called Deutsch-britische Beziehungen im zwangzigsten Jahrhundert. Yup, that's right: German-British Relations in the 20th Century. In case you didn't know, they were bad. There was a lot of arguing going on in class all the time so I decided to spend the hour commenting on my fellow classmates in my notebook. First of all, they were all tall. A good majority were the ideal Aryan with blond hair and blue eyes. There was a really cute girl who was always late that reminded me of Meg Ryan. She said a few really dumb comments though so I stopped writing about her. I had a slight crush on my professor. He was bald but had really cool glasses and wore a newsboy cap in the halls. I ended up hating him, though, because I went to talk to him once about a paper topic and he seemed very amused with me. Now I know that I'm a small little Asian girl but I don't find myself that amusing. Anyway. Listening to the lectures and the German students' opinions on what happened during the last century was a very savory thing for me because I love Germany and I love learning history. Doing so within stone's throw of where Hitler eventually poisoned himself, his wife, and his dog Blondi (the dog first just to make sure the poison actually worked) was ketchup on the meatloaf. These types of "history is alive" stories usually really annoy me, but it really was special. And nice. Alone in a room full of Nazi-descendants arguing about why they scorched Europe a couple years back.
So for whom does the bell toll? I don't think I will ever read the book, but this is my rundown, elementary school style:
For whom? For everyone who can hear. I think it still rings even if no one hears it.
For what? To remind them of something, give them information.
When? When they're listening.
Why? Because we will forget unless we're reminded.
How? This one's the mystery in my opinion.
*A couple other great modern ur-German ideas: 1) The printing press, by Gutenberg; 2) The reformation, by Luther; 3) Positivism, by Hegel (this one is great as in very influential, not necessary positive [hee hee]); 4) Post-Coco Chanel, by Karl Lagerfeld. That last one's for you, Unni.
**I hope to find her one day when I venture over to Ireland to drink myself to death whilst singing "Danny Boy" at the top of my lungs.
posted by miriamhead at 9:21 PM
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