Tough Acts to Follow: The English Department Reading

Last week Wednesday, students and the English Department faculty gathered for the annual department reading in the Olmsted Room, on what professor Gail Griffin called a most “godforsaken night.”

Featuring readings of creative and critical pieces by all of the department’s faculty, Griffin explained to the standing-room-only crowd that this annual reading is a time for the department faculty to “show off, and make the faculty just a bit vulnerable.”

Department chair Andy Mozina started the reading with an excerpt of his short story, “My Non-Sexual Affair,” a moving tale about the chilling fear of accidental infidelity, love, and explaining how someone could be so absentminded as to forget about the spilled chocolate sauce down the front of their shirt.

Next, visiting professor, and local poet, Elizabeth Marzoni delivered a sultry, and gripping, reading of her poem, “Rothko’s Room,” insipired by expressionist painter Mark Rothko’s work. Like Rothko’s brushstrokes, Marzoni’s reading blanketed the room in ponderous waves of words.

Gail Griffin followed, with a compelling excerpt of her upcoming book about the Murder-Suicide that occurred in DeWaters Hall 10 years ago. Her impeccable attention to detail immersed the audience in her story, letting them walk alongside her as she travelled back in time.

Glenn Deutsch contrasted wonderfully with his short story, “Monkey Version of My Father,” about a young boy growing up in 1969 New York City. Deutsch’s awkward young New Yorker took the crowd with him on a car trip across the city to share his fascination with Chichen Itza, human sacrifice, and his belief that being stuffed into subway cars is the ultimate cool.

Amy Rodgers, who is only on campus for the year, read the only dramatic piece of the evening. Known for her impressive scholarship, her piece, about Robert Frost’s son who committed suicide, was a refreshing, deeply personal, and moving, surprise.

Also a well respected critic, Babli Sinha followed Ms. Rogers with an excerpt of a conference paper about the power of women in media and the South Asian novel. Also the chair of Media Studies, Sinha’s scholarly writing was an impressive, engaging, and informative, bridge between creative pieces.

The ever popular Di Seuss returned the reading to creative writing with two poems from a forthcoming collection. The first was titled, “It Wasn’t a Dream, I knew William Burroughs,” who is of “Naked Lunch” fame. The piece is daringly written in the largely unpopular form of a confessional poem, blurring the lines among poetry, written documentary, and free-writing.

Before the sea of heads dissipated, Bruce Mills concluded the evening with two excerpts from a memoir in progress about his son’s autism. His work arguably made him the most vulnerable faculty member of the evening, and gave sound confirmation that every member of the department fails only at disappointing an audience. His storytelling, which is, if anything, earnest, left the room yearning to hear more, just how Mills described the yearning in every sound his son utters.