x
britlit
Oh yeah, that thing called class
Hey there.

My first week of classes is nearing its completion even though it is only Wednesday. I’m really excited about the classes I’m taking, even though I was a little worried that my course load might be light this semester. I’ve heard conflicting reports about the coursework at Kings. Many of the girls from Barnard who have gone here say that the coursework is really light, and that compared to Barnard (sorry I sound like such a snob,) this semester is going to be a breeze. But my sister has a friend who went to Vassar who said that she never worked harder than the semester she spent at King’s. I’m conflicted because on the one hand I’m really interested in the classes I’m taking, and thus I want my classes to be challenging, and my peers to be intellectually engaged. On the other hand, that’s kind of what I do at home. I want my classes to be interesting, but at the same time I want to be able to explore London and meet people and pretend I’m somebody totally different than who I actually am. The key I suppose, as in all things, is balance.


I’m taking four courses this semester.

They are: Jane Austen in Context

The Rise of the Novel

Jacobean Shakespeare

And

Experimental Theatre Since Jarry.


All of my courses meet twice a week. There is an hour-long lecture, followed by an hour-long seminar. And that’s it. I only have eight hours of class a week. The trouble is that these hours occur consecutively. Many of my classes end when another begins, so I have to run to get to them, but usually end up late any way. Thus I have to interrupt the Professor as I walk in, with my eyes averted, trying to find the closest available seat. The timely students, however, take all of the seats that are closest to the door. So you have to either fight your way through the seated students who are trying to listen to the lecturer who is now pretending to ignore the fact that you’re bumping into chairs and can’t find a seat, to the back of the classroom where the Professor can then stare at you resentfully for the remainder of the lecture, or you can take a seat on the floor in the front of class where you can’t see the lecturer, but he or she can’t see you. I sit on the floor a lot.


All of my classes take place on the Strand Campus. The Strand Campus is a single massive building that’s located next to Somerset House just over Waterloo Bridge on the North Bank of the Thames. I say it’s a single building because you can go from one end to the other without going outside, but that is a tad bit misleading because it is actually comprised of two massive buildings that have been fused together to form a giant edifice rex. Thus classes can be in either the Main Building, which is the original building, or the Strand building, even though they are in the same building. I get lost a lot.


It takes about fifteen minutes for me to get across the bridge to class, but the first day I allowed half an hour: fifteen minutes for walking there and fifteen minutes for getting lost. Our schedules had been handed out to us during a department meeting between all of the English majors studying abroad and our “Tutor,” who is like an advisor. Along with our schedules (or, I should say “timetables”) we were handed a list of different room numbers and where they might be located within the Strand Campus. My first class was Jane Austen, and I consulted both my timetable and the glossary, and after stumbling a bit, and asking two or three Kings natives for directions I finally arrived at the room printed on my timetable.


I was so relieved to have found the right room that I didn’t pause to read the sign on the door, which announced that the Jane Austen lecture had been moved to room 1GFSB3 (see what I mean about confusing?), and it was thus with a painful mixture of surprise, confusion, and embarrassment that I heard the lecturer announce “Welcome to Medieval Literature.” I then spent the next ten minutes trying to regain my composure, tactfully collect my coat and notebook, and tactfully exit from the middle of the row where I was sitting. I then spent some more time wandering around the now deserted corridors looking for the Jane Austen class, to which I arrived half an hour late. All in all, it was like a bad Hilary Duff movie about a new girl in school. After that, however, the day turned out great. What I caught of the Jane Austen lecture was fabulous and then I had Rise of the Novel, which was equally entertaining. Rise of the Novel looks like it will be a great class, although I’m not thrilled about having to read Robinson Crusoe and Moll Flanders again. I only had two lectures that day (albeit back to back,) and I spent the rest of the day trying to track down a copy of Robinson Crusoe, and then (unsuccessfully,) trying to finish it that night before Seminar on Tuesday.


It didn’t happen, but hey, I tried. And after all, I’m not going to be stuck in the Library this semester. Cheerio!

 
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