I left campus at 12:50 and drove to that other campus, Duke, only ten or so minutes away.
There is Absolutely No Parking for people like me on a weekday, so I parked in the Gardens lot and then walked through the Gardens to get to the Allen Building, which houses so much that is important to the University, including, during his office hours, my professor.
The hillside next to the parking lot was Absolutely Yellow with daffodils, and also with pansies in shades of lavender. The sky was a shade of blue that UNC could only wish for, and the temperature was that early, warm spring variety– the kind when you really aren’t certain that you need your coat. There was the ancient smell of boxwood and the crunch of the sandy gravel under my feet; the roses in their beds showed signs of waking: new and ruddy leaves are just beginning to show at the ends of the short canes. And there, just past the gazebo, a few of the trees were in bloom.
My professor’s office has an extensive bank of paned and mullioned windows that look out onto the quad and chapel, and throughout our meeting campus sounds drifted up to make background noise for our conversation.
And the conversation. We talked for Over An Hour about Joseph and His Brothers, this book that asks for so much focus and concentration, that deserves so much more of my time than I can seem to give it. We talked about history and time and memory, about Mann’s life experience and the specific and dreadful years he gave to writing this book, about how, perhaps, this book was the means of his survival. We read passages aloud; we wondered about their weight and meaning; we marveled at the genius that could produce this.
And then I walked back, past the daffodils and crocii, through the fragrance of the boxwood, and back to the campus where I am spending all my days.
We all have our favorite things. When asked, we can likely list them. But it’s Another Thing Entirely, isn’t it? when we actually get to Do something that we Really Really Like.
I like to talk– seriously and deeply– about Really Good Books. Oh my, yes.
