Rethinking
My oral exams are in just a few days. I'm a bit nervous, but not altogether worried, somehow. I probably should be, since I'm delaying the in-depth backgrounding/research on my special topics pieces 'til the weekend (though if I run into some down time today at work, I may begin earlier). I'm sort of regretting the breadth of my topics, now, actually. When I chose them, I was pleased with the variety, and with the prospect of having a good dialogue with my examiners. For the curious, I've chosen, in addition to my mish-mash of coursework topics (ranging from James Merrill to Hesse to Blake to Whitman and back to Proust. Or something), D.H. Lawrence's The Rainbow (I prefer Sons and Lovers, but it wasn't on the list), Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness (this was my "freebie." I've read it for classes many times as an undergraduate and discussed/analyzed it from several differing points of view), Thomas Mann's "Death in Venice" (not much commentary here, yet. This is my problem piece), and Ernest Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises (because Hemingway is really the only of the mod. novelists I didn't study in graduate courses).
I must admit, being this close to the end of it all, finally, feels strange. It's taken me longer to finish this degree than my bachelor's--with much less coursework. And so much of that time has been spent avoiding working on the thesis. Suddenly, the thesis is written (and wasn't that difficult to write), and exams are next week. I should graduate in mid-December. While I'm relieved to have this behind me (almost), the experience not as exciting as it would have been had I finished soon after completing my classes. Now, I'm so removed. I'm a grown up now, with a career-job, a husband and a baby. I have lots of debt, am unhappy with my job and have no clear view of what the future holds. What, after all, will having this master's degree mean?
If I teach, as I hope to next fall, then the MA will translate to a slightly higher beginning salary. But that has nothing to do with anything, really. When I began the degree, I did so to determine whether literature was what I wanted to do, whether a doctorate course was in my future--which there is not, I think. Literature is important to me--but not as important as simply reading. I enjoy analysis and critique, but they can strip some of the joy of curling up to read, simply.
Thus, what it means immediately to have this degree behind me, one way or another, is that I will be allowed (by my own permission) to read again, to begin sewing projects, to redesign Web pages, to exercise in the evening, to relax with my husband. For so long the avoidance of completing this degree has so filled everything. I'm looking forward to an earned patch of doing nothing.