9 Matching Annotations
  1. May 2018
    1. The stop’s function being, in this case, a pocket of dreaded clarity, a cosmic magnifying glass for the sole use of the Waiter, who at the stop has no choice but to be dragged out from the rush of his college life and made, for better or worse, aware of just how nauseous that motion makes him.

      Also not in the original draft. I think I was far too scared of beating my audience over the head to the point that what I actually wanted to say didn't come through. I really like this sentence because it connects the new, personal aspect of the essay with the ideas of the stop mentioned earlier. Also, I think it sounds nice, bar incorrect usage of "nauseous."

    2. Now, let’s put our Waiter in his proper context. We’ll assume the Waiter is a (male) freshman at Boston College who lives on the Newton Campus. He likes music and spends a disproportionate amount of time on Upper because his friends live there (thus why he waits at the stop so frequently). He likes his friends more than he expected to like people in college. The Waiter generally has a pretty good idea of what’s going on around him. He likes to think he’s more self-aware than your average Eagle; he’s done a lot of thinking about Big Picture stuff, especially college and himself. Meaning he’s aware (or, at least, believes himself to be aware) of college’s terrifying kinetic power (the way everyday life there feels like the very essence of motion and activity), and he’s somewhat in awe at how everything feels transient, how everyone there seems moment-obsessed, relishing the blur. He finds himself aware of this phenomenon while, at the same time, he melts into it. Or at least he tries to. Even on his most lively and activity-filled days, days where he has not a second to consider the previous before moving to the next, eventually, he ends up in the same place: the College Road bus stop. The College Road bus stop, where he’s forced out of the zooming haze and into location-based purgatory just by standing and looking around; where he’s suddenly and distinctly stationary, waiting for the bus; where he becomes disturbingly aware of the events of the day he’s just experienced; where these events have time to simmer in his head-soup, not to the point of festering, but to the point where he’s successfully removed from – aware of – the ever-spinning county-fair death trap that is his life now.

      None of this was in the original draft, mostly because I feared writing myself into it too much, making it more about me and less about the Stop (the intended subject of the piece). When I thought about it more I realized how flat-out idiotic that line of thinking was; experiences are inherently personal, so I can only really talk about my perception of the Stop, and therefore writing myself into the essay wasn't only permissible but necessary in order to truly capture the power of the place.

    3. adventurous

      Originally "ambitious." These two words aren't so dissimilar, but the difference is clear enough that the change makes sense: there's no ambition in a freshman taking the Comm Ave. bus - no lofty goals or ridiculous confidence - but there is adventure because the Comm Ave. bus is generally seen as a home to upperclassmen.

    4. manufacture

      Originally "assume." The important difference being that I wanted the Waiter to have some active role in the genesis of these emotions, and "assume" doesn't quite cut it, as well as not really working in this context. "Manufacture" is clearer and better accomplishes my goal.

    5. The Walkers are, at their most Waiter-interactive, like people who’ve taken a fleeting interest in one particular exhibit at a zoo; they slow their walks just enough to take in the visuals, but most of their energy is dedicated to continuing on their way.

      The final clarification here was absent from my first draft; the metaphor made so much sense in my mind that I figured it'd click immediately for my audience too. The problem being that "people who've taken a fleeting interest in one particular exhibit at a zoo" actually behave in numerous possible ways. Thus the addition of the semicolon and final phrase, which I actually quite like now because it gives a more concrete image of the Walkers.

    6. the other way

      This short phrase's original incarnation was as "its inverse," which on first writing I thought had a certain mathematic quality that I enjoyed, and seemed close enough to the meaning that it wouldn't be unclear. When I went back I understood Mr. Z's confusion; "its inverse" is unnecessarily clunky in its attempt to be smooth. Opting for this new phrase helps clarify this, and contributes to the casual tone I'm going for.

    1. Infantile Oblivion

      This came from the first freewrite of the year about what it means to be lost. This iteration is almost totally overhauled, mostly because of the focus on the phrase "infantile oblivion." I decided to come back to this writing in this way because it felt cathartic to do so. I've gone through a lot personally this semester, and I've been drawing a consistent parallel between my assignments and writing in this class and the real life happenings in my life. Returning to the original question with a new perspective and voice felt too poetic to pass up; luckily, I had found this theme to be increasingly present in my life throughout the semester, so I had something I really wanted to say; writing this was the most fun and satisfying writing I've done in a good while.

    2. At some point in Denis Johnson’s Angels, Johnson describes a baby drifting into an “infantile oblivion.”

      This wasn't in my original essay, mostly because I hadn't made this connection yet. I discovered a lot about myself this year, among them why I found this phrase so compelling - made my headspace a much more sound place in the end. I included it because my discovery of this happened over the course of this semester, and I found it sort of allegorical to my work in the class. It's a purely personal connection, but one I felt like sharing.

  2. Apr 2018
    1. Women have uncannily similar and all too often harrowing and even devastating stories about things that have happened to them at work because men do very similar things to women; leaning in doesn’t help. There’s more copying going on, too: pornography and accounts of sexual harassment follow the same script.

      Lepore makes an effective connection between the ideas of intellectual property and the way the accounts of abuse of many women seem to be repeating themselves. She does so through diction; her use of the word "copying" in a slightly unusual way - typically, one wouldn't use "copying" to refer to independent events that aren't similar on purpose - keys the reader into the parallel she's trying to draw.