According to Webster, an essay is "a short literary composition on a particular theme or subject, usu. in prose and generally analytic, speculative, or interpretive." Well, let's see ... these posts I write are indeed short; don't know if they're particuarly literary (what does that mean, anyway?); they do focus on a particular theme or subject; yes, they are prose, but--analytic? Meh. Speculative? Well, yes, insofar as the contemplation of the subject goes; but a conclusion, i. e., the speculation that results from the speculating, isn't always reached. Sometimes I simply ramble on and on without actually getting anywhere. Interpretive? Again, yes, insofar as I pursue my own personal, and sometimes autobiographical, take on the subject, ignoring everyone else's. In other words, I tend to "write what I know" without taking the trouble to find out about what I don't know. That's the diarist in me. In conclusion (ah!--a conclusion!), whether or not I write essays is in the eye of the reader.
In These Happy Golden Years Laura Ingalls returns to school after teaching her first term, and on her very first day back she discovers that the teacher, Mr. Owens, has asked the students to write an essay on ambition, and the assignment was due that very day. Laura panics because she has never written an essay before. So she decides to consult the dictionary, as I did for a formal definition of "essay," and ends up hastily writing a very short but excellent piece. Mr. Owens gave it a 100, in fact. I had a very similar experience myself (see, I'm pursuing my own autobiographical take) when I was a freshman at Incarnate Word High School. My English teacher, Sr. Agnes Imelda Lange, had us choose a Bible verse and write an essay on it. I can't remember the exact verse I chose, but it was a Proverb. Like Laura Ingalls, I was in a bit of a panic because I had never written an essay before, not even "What I Did Last Summer." But I did my best, and Sister gave me an A+ for my effort, telling me I should write for the school paper, which I never did, but I was grateful for the encouragement.
Years later, when I was at the Houston Grand Opera, I was asked to write an article for the company's magazine about what an opera coach does. Again, I panicked, but this time because I was daunted by the word "article." It sounded so--well, journalistic, and I certainly was no journalist. As I drafted the article, the words of Helene Hanff, one of my favorite writers, came back to me (and I paraphrase): "What were the essays of Addison and Steele, Hazlitt, and Lamb, but magazine articles?" I thought, well, there you go, I'm really writing an essay. A much nicer, more literary (whatever that means) term than "article." So I took a cue from Addison and Steele and discarded my inititial drier, more technical, draft and wrote another draft using my own speaking voice, as if I were actually talking face to face with my readers. I found this approach to be much easier and infinitely more sincere than the journalistic approach with which I had begun.
Oh, dear, I'm rambling again.
I suppose what I'm trying to say, in my vague and verbose manner, is that I love essays; rather, I've come to love them. Once I got past my academic notion of them and began reading essayists like Addison and Steele, Lamb, and my personal favorite, "Alpha of the Plough," I discovered that the essay can be a source of much pleasure, be they light or serious. If you think you don't like essays, keep in mind that every time you read an editorial you are in fact reading an essay. And bloggers like myself are, in effect, writing essays (albeit in a more informal, less literary--aack!-- way). Thank you, Laura Ingalls and Sr. Agnes Imelda Lange, for the inspiration and encouragement!
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