Okay, so I will admit that the book A Fine and Private Place truly was not as outrageous as I first thought. After talking it over with my classmates tonight, I feel as though I have a much better understanding of what the novel is and how it should be read. Perhaps the key to understanding is group conversation. Dr. Tallmadge, although he did not read the text, provided some useful insight based on simply what we were discussing and relating it to our themes at Spring Grove. However, the question still looms, what is a cemetery? From Peter S. Beagle’s point of view, it is a place to escape from reality, the final destination, a cultivator of love.
I truly wish we could have walked around some more tonight. Although it was a warm evening, the humidity was much less dreadful than usual. I drove to class tonight via the Gray Road entrance. I did not take any route in particular, that is, a white, yellow, or green line, rather just followed whatever made sense. The idea was to see things I have not yet discovered. Ironically enough, I found my way to the front of the cemetery much easier than I would have suspected. Maybe this just goes to show that there is a natural flow, an unconscious plan after all. I still envision Spring Grove as a private garden, a veritable Eden in the vastness of a commercialized, industrial metropolis. Walled and gated in, Spring Grove is one of the few places in the city where one can honestly hideaway and feel enlightened by the surroundings of a truly different place. Although a cemetery, it has become one of my favorite places to come and think, read, eat, and, of course, study.
I truly wish we could have walked around some more tonight. Although it was a warm evening, the humidity was much less dreadful than usual. I drove to class tonight via the Gray Road entrance. I did not take any route in particular, that is, a white, yellow, or green line, rather just followed whatever made sense. The idea was to see things I have not yet discovered. Ironically enough, I found my way to the front of the cemetery much easier than I would have suspected. Maybe this just goes to show that there is a natural flow, an unconscious plan after all. I still envision Spring Grove as a private garden, a veritable Eden in the vastness of a commercialized, industrial metropolis. Walled and gated in, Spring Grove is one of the few places in the city where one can honestly hideaway and feel enlightened by the surroundings of a truly different place. Although a cemetery, it has become one of my favorite places to come and think, read, eat, and, of course, study.
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