As you may recall, I did a mini-feature (featurelette?) called the Book of Joy, which recounted the tome that had brought me the most pleasure. Sadly, this week there is not a book to fill that position – I haven’t been reading for pleasure, I’ve been slumped at my desk inhaling caffeine fumes, writing the novel, revising and figuratively crying over poetry. Not in a good way.
So my Book of Sorrow for this week is the AQA GCSE English Literature Poetry Anthology. Even typing out the name of the damned thing gives me flashbacks.
Although you may have previously heard me wax lyrical about poetry, this anthology is not included in my poetical treasures. It probably will be in four months time and I have an English Literature exam to be revising for, but at this current moment in time I have other priorities, such as art deadlines, and blogging, and learning the words to Let’s Dance to Joy Division. Unfortunately for my English teacher, writing a big-ass essay on the voice in Les Grands Seigneurs does not appear on that list. Said big-ass essay is due Monday, so I should get going.
But I really, really don’t want to do it. I fantasize about burning the damned anthology, but then I realise that I’ll need it for the exam, and that I should get to like combing over poetry, because I’ll have to go through the whole fiasco again for A-Level English Literature. This blog post is probably the height of procrastination – I’m moaning about something, instead of actually doing it.
You wouldn’t want to do it either. Just look at the state of it. Those notes are my own, and they replicate my entire brain and thought process. Those notes are me ‘word-farting’ onto the page and hoping to god that they fall in a readable, understandable fashion. Which, sadly, most of the time they don’t.
I’ve had enough. This collection has inflicted upon me enough pain to last a fortnight, and has put me off poetry for the next four months. Screw poetry.
And to top it all off, I’ve found out that chocolate causes my migraines. Absolutely bloody marvellous.